This regal jumping spider rules her tiny garden domain.
She squeezes out every last drop, leaving nothing but a crumpled husk behind.
The size of a bottle cap, she had to teach herself how to be this fearsome, starting when she was smaller than a sesame seed.
Every jumping spider must learn to stalk and pounce — they don’t use a web to catch prey.
To make the next generation of killers-in-training, she’ll need a mate.
A male arrives in formal attire — jet black with white markings. And blue-green iridescent chelicerae. That’s the name for these appendages that house their venom glands and end in their fangs.
Quite dashing, indeed.
He captivates her attention with his dance moves.
They embrace, and things get intimate.
A couple of weeks after mating, the female jumping spider lays 50-200 eggs inside her cozy nest.
She spins a protective silk sac around them … and guards them.
When they hatch, the nest serves as both their nursery and a silky jungle gym.
They grow up here under the many watchful eyes of their mom.
They don’t eat during these first few weeks, surviving off of yolk, an energy source left over from when they were in their eggs.
Their exoskeletons harden and darken.
As they grow, so does their curiosity … and their appetite.
They have to venture out into the world to find their first meal.
Jumping spiders’ keen eyesight is fine-tuned for daylight hunting.
They have eight eyes.
You can see them more clearly on their mom.
The three smaller pairs on the sides see motion, making it hard for predators to sneak up on them.
Their central pair are their principal eyes that allow them to see crisp detail and vivid color. They also help these cuties judge distance so they can land on target.
Something catches the spiderling’s attention.
But at first, the spiderling is a bit unsure of what to do.
It doesn’t have a teacher. So it’s gotta improvise.
OK, that could have gone better.
Got it!
But now what?
Aww!
All right, this time, no messing around.
The spiderling tries out its fangs for the very first time. It doesn’t take long before this tiny hunter enjoys the sweet taste of success.
With practice, the spiderling improves its technique.
As she grows, she gets fuzzy, like really fuzzy. And gains the confidence to take on bigger and stronger prey.
Over six to nine months, this self-made spider has become a stone cold killer.
She’s the apex predator … at least on this twig.
