Well oh dear. The last 6 hours have been tense. I suppose I was lucky to have got this far in spider-keeping without having it happen to me yet, but tonight it did - Binky, bless him, my 11th instar sub-adult L. parahybana got stuck in his moult.

 

Binky is very obvious about when a moult is impending, so I have been anticipating this moult for the last month or so, and knew it would be today or tonight by the hair flicking I have recorded on video recently... today, he span a fairly weak excuse for a moulting mat, which must have taken him all of 15 minutes, and then very very slowly and clumsily, he flipped himself over (half of which I also have on video). Then I watched him remotely via web cam (videoing the good bits all the while) until I noticed he seemed to be having more trouble than usual, and something didn't look quite right about the front legs as they were emerging from the old exuvium. I was later to discover that this is because only half the front legs WERE emerging, and one was stuck fast at the Trochantal joint - that leg joint closest to the ventral side of the body.

 

Minutes later, he had righted himself, but the exuvium would not of course detach properly, and was now grotesquely folded and crumpled around him as he tried to drag himself away from it.

 

I was suitably appalled, and immediately misted the area around his tank heavily, and posted the symptoms and a photo or 2 on Arachnoboards. Within 20 minutes, I had 30 or so suggestions for what to do, some suggesting leaving well alone, others saying go and help, and some helping me decide whether to go in and assist or not.

 

Of course I am all too aware that I risk killing the spider during its time of greatest vulnerability just by disturbing it in the middle of proceedings, and yet in opposition to this, every minute I left it, the exuvium would became harder to remove from his new legs as it hardens in air quite quickly after being shed. 

 

I watched him struggle for maybe 5 minutes before I decided extreme intervention action was indeed required. I gathered my equipment around me, carefully removed the lid of the tank and went in and investigated. At this point, I had no choice but to turn on the bright main light in the spider room so that I could see what I was doing.

 

I gathered 2 large spider catchers, to deal with the unlikely event of him bolting, long metal tweezers, which I quickly sterilised with boiling water, a damp fine artists paintbrush, some smaller tweezers, a baster, a mini-mister, and some nail scissors.

 

I should stress at this point that when I opened the tank to intervene I had no idea what the hell I was going to do, or even what his injuries or situation might be, but instinctively knew I had to do something, and concern for the animal over-rode any instincts I may have remaining about being in very close proximity to really quite large spiders.

 

So I forged a plan very much as I went, but began by investigating to see what was what. I dipped my paintbrush in distilled water, and gently lifted the far extremities of the exuvium  in an effort to try and see what was still joined where.

 

It quickly became clear that tweezers of any description were not going to offer anything like the level of control I needed, so most of what I did was done by hand, and consequently I was covered in urticating hairs by the time the experience was over - ironically, not a single one of which was kicked at me by the spider - most rubbed off from the old moult as I tried to free the animal from it. 

 

At this point, initially, the spider was extremely co-operative, and didn't move at all, possibly because of the gentleness of my approach, and subsequent contact with him, but judging from the frantic speed of his visibly beating heart was more likely down to him being simply terrified. I shook a bit, he shook a bit, we all jumped every so often.

 

Eventually, I could see that it was indeed his Right II leg, Trochantal joint that was still in the old exoskeleton pretty much from the Coxa right down to the femur, but with a split that had not split properly around the Trochanter itself. 

 

Gently lifting the exuvium near the spot caused the spider some obvious distress, displayed in quick juddering 'rush' movements, and it was clear that he wasn't going to get out of that exuvium without further 'help' from me. I then moved to my improvised 'stage 2'.

 

Heavily misting again, and re-wetting my paintbrush, I proceeded to gently stroke all over the join between the spider and its former self in the hope of softening it all up, and allowing the spider to help itself. He put up with this for around 3 minutes before I obviously did something he seriously didn't like, at which point there was a small crack, and he bolted out from under the exuvium, leaving his right II leg detached at the Coxa and still in the moult. But he was free, and alive.

 

He then sat very still, and I immediately withdrew, removed his old moult from on top of him, and shut his tank up, leaving him in the warm dark to recover, under close night vision web cam scrutiny where I could monitor any bleeding, and his heartbeat remotely, without disturbing him further. This is also why there will be no photos of him until a day or 2 after he recovers.

 

2 hours later, he is moving around, albeit clunkily, but does not appear to be bleeding, and is definitely looking stable and unstressed. I have superglue ready if I do notice bleeding, but the autotomizing process does, it seems, effectively close the wound at the moment of detachment, apparently through muscle spasms around the affected joint.

 

So - my first excursion into spider exuviotomy - all very concerning, exciting, and ultimately, I suppose relieving, and, dare I say, even slightly rewarding. Certainly a learning curve.

 

Thank you to everyone on arachnoboards who offered timely suggestions for what to do...

 

Looking back, it is difficult to know if I caused him to break free by softening the joint, or if my intervention simply panicked him into autotomizing the stuck leg in an effort to escape, which is possibly what he would have done left to his own devices anyway.  

 

However I consider myself very lucky to have been able to 'help' if I did, and very pleased that so far, Binky is still with us.

 

Let us hope these incidents are few and far between... 

 

I took 2 reference photos to show Arachnoboards so they could better advise me.  It's not pleasant, but here it is, for those interested. This is Binky, right side up with his moult still attached, all looking really rather wrong...

 

 

 

UPDATE +12 Hours

 

I watched him for as long as I could before I fell asleep, and on waking today I found him in almost perfect post moult recovery posture - all legs he still has being fully stretched out to dry. I think he's going to be OK, and now await with great interest the process of Binky growing himself a new leg.

 

From reports I have read, he is likely to bring on his next few moults much more quickly than ordinarily, and it is likely to take 3 or 4 moults to produce a brand new, full-size leg. What an amazing capability to have, hey ?