Christmas Spider

I was out in some city (it may have been Staunton) and it was Christmas Eve. I remember that I made my way through three or four churches for a Christmas Eve program of some sort. About the only one that I really recall was one that they were having a buffet, and I was looking around for something, almost as if trying to figure out whether or not I was supposed to be there. I know I saw some familiar faces while I was there, but I don't recall now who they were.

Then a bit later I was at home, and it was night time. I think it was after I had returned home from this church search. I was out in the kitchen, and I remember having a pet spider. It was almost like a black widow, but it's abdomen was smaller, and it was a larger (over all) spider. I'd say that with it's legs spread out in a normal walk position, it was about as big around as a tennis ball (about three inches in diameter). It didn't occur to me at first that I'm terrified of spiders, and I believe I even remember some sort of conversation with it. I don't know if it was an actual spoken conversation, or if it was a mental transfer of some sort, but the conversation was there while I was sitting at the kitchen table handling it. I don't even remember what it was about, but I seem to recall it being a female sounding voice, even though it seemed to me that the spider itself seemed both male and female. (at least at first)

There was something on the front of the spider, but I don't remember what it was. Perhaps it was a napkin or something, but for some reason it was wrapped around the head and front two legs, at least, and keeping it tame, kind of like having it on a leash. But I think that this thing somehow made it personable.

Then something which I can't remember happened and killed the thing. I didn't realize at first that it was dead, but I had picked it up and I was stroking the back four legs from the underneath, kind of uncurling them as I did so, and then they'd go right back to being curled. I did this about two times, and I realized that it was dead. Then upon doing it a third time, I remembered that I was very afraid of spiders.

When I started stroking the legs the first time, I got up and was walking over to the kitchen door and was going over by the threshold and squatting or kneeling down. When I realized it was dead, I was trying to put it into the inch wide gap which was at the threshold, almost like it was a pit or a trashcan. When when I was afraid of it again, I was trying to shove it down in there with something besides my hand. I can't remember what I tried to use, but I know that I was becoming more and more repulsed by the thing by the moment.