Sluggin' Along: Brigid the Putnam's Jumper

You've already met Wallis, the Daring Jumping Spider (Phidippus audax) that used to live in the post of our front porch railing. Now I'd like to introduce you to Brigid, the Putnam's Jumper (Phidippus putnami). While visiting my dad at work, one of his coworkers mentioned that there was a tiny jumping spider living in the driver's side mirror of his pickup truck. At first I thought it was too good to be true, but sure enough, there she was, perched right beside the mirror, waving her furry little palps up and down. She was less than 2 millimeters long! I didn't have my camera with me, so I scooped her into a cup and took her home. All during the drive she sat just below the plastic wrap, staring at me and waving her palps. As she had been riding outside a pickup truck for who knows how long, she didn't seem to mind the movement, though she did appear to wonder where we were going. My dad's coworker said she would even wave at him as he was driving!

Once home, I moved Brigid to a large wine glass and stretched some pantyhose over the top so she could breathe. Then I carried her upstairs to my computer desk to see if I could identify her species. After a good hour and a half of research, I found it: she was a relative of Wallis. The midocular tufts (the black stalks of hair over the large median eyes) distinguish P. putnami from P. carolinensis. But what sex? I thought for a while she was a subadult male, but I've altered that classification to a subadult female. She will probably molt at least one more time before reaching maturity.

I kept Brigid in her glass for about a day before releasing her into the yard. I had initially intended to keep her as a pet, as I've been dying for a pet jumping spider, but she seemed very unhappy in the glass. I gave her a Boxelder Bug nymph for food and a leaf for a hiding spot, but she ran away from the nymph and ignored the leaf. Restless, she crawled around constantly, waving her palps. I didn't have the heart to confine her any longer, so I let her go. A little piece of me went with her. But before she vanished from my sight, she permitted a long photo shoot, in which she posed and looked at me and even crawled on my hand. I set her down on a Yellow Bell bush by the front porch. I photographed her on the leaves as she hunted casually, still looking back at me as if to ask, "Is it okay?" Then I went inside. I haven't seen her again. I hope she didn't get eaten, because she's one of the sweetest spiders I've ever known.

As you can see, she was hesitant to leave the glass. Her unwillingness to leave only made it harder for me to let her go.