They kill us for their sport.
Yesterday, as I was finishing taking pictures of a spider web, my cat, Rico, was rubbing against my legs and whining for attention. He walked in small circles, mewing. Inadvertently, he broke the lower supporting strand of the spider web with his upraised tail. “Oh no!” I cried, as I saw the spider suddenly plummet, clutching to an emergency strand, seeming to gather up as much silk as he could as he fell.
I could only hope for the best, trusting the industrious spider, free of our interference, would be able to repair the destruction we had wrought.
Well, not a wanton boy exactly, but a galumphing photographer for sure.