Pete, the Camel Cricket and my Partner in Crime!

I discovered an unusual insect in my basement when I went down to get my clothes from the drier. This weird little creature looked like a spider but jumped like a cricket. And when it jumped so high right at me, I screamed. My husband called down the steps, wondering if I’d fallen on the slightly slippery floor. You see, the town I live in has a high-water table, a polite way of saying my basement floods whenever the downpours get vicious. The water bubbles up from tiny holes in the floor and I get out the Wet Vac or the bright yellow, gliding mop bucket with a wringer attached. Armed thusly, I’m ready for battle against any flood.

Camel Cricket

This crazy jumping spider fascinated me. Apparently, he had family living in my basement, I’d never seen him or his kin upstairs. He wasn’t violent and didn’t bite. He was just very, very bizarre looking.

I quickly followed Google crumbs to discover my basement lurker was a fairly unknown species — a camel cricket. Or a cave cricket, spider cricket, jumping spider, whatever you want to call them. Entomologists have difficulty classifying them because this nocturnal denizen resides in the subfamily Rhaphidophoridae, which has over 1100 species! They eat other insects, live about a year and because they can’t see very well (living in the dark will do that to you) they jump at anything when they’re scared. Hence, my scream at our first hello.

I posted on a local Facebook town group and everybody knew about these hippity-hoppity guys. Some hated them and wanted to get rid of them. “We’re being invaded!” Others were indifferent. I figured, well, if they stay in the basement, they can eat all the bugs they want. It’s a plus for both of us.

One night, I happened to notice that one of these intrepid predators had gotten upstairs and set up housekeeping under my oven. He probably rode in on my netted laundry bag as I lugged it upstairs. Definitely not his fault and, believe me, my kitchen wasn’t his favorite place. No eternal darkness. No dampness. Lots of activity going on.

Then one very early morning while it was still dark, I came downstairs and turned on the light. A big black water bug (Blatta orientalis) lumbered across the floor — another frequent occurrence in a town with a high-water table. I dispatched him with…