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You have a kind heart, pooh.
Me, I love those spiders. We call 'em writing spiders because legend has it that if they write your name in their webs, you'll soon die. They're completely harmless, and as a kid I would often catch them and let them build webs all over me. While it looks like a white zig zag to us, the "writing" looks like a flower to insects who are viewing it with eyes that see in the ultra-violet spectrum.
We currently have one of those big orange spiders right outside our back door. For two days I ducked under the web, then my son came by and destroyed the web. The spider built it back, but only half-way so I no longer needed to duck under it but instead simply side-step it for the last couple of days. I thought maybe it had learned its lesson, but today it reconstructed the web to again cover the entire top half of the doorway. I'm afraid I wasn't feeling too charitable at the time and brushed it aside rudely while saying something rather unpleasant to the spider. In a while, I'll go back out to the gazebo to read a bit. If the spider is there again, I'll catch it in my hand and put it beside the rear window. Maybe it'll take the hint.
Speaking of wildlife, a young robin got into the gazebo today and couldn't figure out how to get out. After chasing Chrystal and Norton away, I tried to demonstrate where the doorway was and the screen wasn't, but my fine feathered friend turned out to be a real birdbrain. So I placed my hands under the screen where the exhausted critter fell into them and I walked out of the gazebo with it. Once outside, it realized it was free and the robin took off out of my cupped hands like a bat out of hell without so much as a "CHIRP chirp", which as everyone knows is robinspeak for "Thanks, pal."
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