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I maintain the conviction that it is always possible to evolve. I think you absolutely are able to instruct a veteran learner, as long as the mature being is willing and ready for growth. As long as the individual in question is ready to confess when it was in error, and endeavor to transform into a better dog.

OK yes, I am the old dog. And the trick I am trying to learn, despite the fact that I am set in my ways? It is an significant challenge, an issue I have struggled with, repeatedly, for my all my days. The quest I'm on … to grow less fearful of huntsman spiders. Apologies to all the remaining arachnid species that exist; I have to be pragmatic about my capacity for development as a human. The target inevitably is the huntsman because it is sizeable, in charge, and the one I see with the greatest frequency. This includes three times in the recent past. Within my dwelling. Though unseen, but a shudder runs through me at the very thought as I type.

I doubt I’ll ever reach “admirer” status, but my project has been at least becoming a baseline of normalcy about them.

A deep-seated fear of spiders from my earliest years (unlike other children who find them delightful). Growing up, I had ample brothers around to make sure I never had to engage with any myself, but I still became hysterical if one was visibly in the same room as me. Vividly, I recall of one morning when I was eight, my family slumbering on, and facing the ordeal of a spider that had made its way onto the living room surface. I “handled” with it by positioning myself at a great distance, practically in the adjoining space (in case it chased me), and spraying half a bottle of pesticide toward it. The chemical cloud missed the spider, but it did reach and irritate everyone in my house.

As I got older, my romantic partner at the time or living with was, automatically, the bravest of spiders out of the two of us, and therefore in charge of managing the intruder, while I made frightened noises and beat a hasty retreat. In moments of solitude, my tactic was simply to leave the room, turn off the light and try to ignore its being before I had to return.

Not long ago, I was a guest at a pal's residence where there was a notably big huntsman who lived in the window frame, primarily stationary. To be less fearful, I conceptualized the spider as a 'girlie', a one of the girls, one of us, just relaxing in the sun and eavesdropping on us chat. This may seem quite foolish, but it was effective (a little bit). Put another way, the deliberate resolution to become less scared did the trick.

Whatever the case, I've made an effort to continue. I contemplate all the rational arguments not to be scared. I am aware huntsman spiders are not dangerous to humans. I recognize they consume things like insect pests (creatures I despise). I know they are one of the world's exquisite, non-threatening to people creatures.

Yet, regrettably, they do continue to move like that. They travel in the deeply alarming and borderline immoral way conceivable. The vision of their numerous appendages transporting them at that terrible speed triggers my ancient psyche to kick into overdrive. They ostensibly only have eight legs, but I maintain that increases exponentially when they are in motion.

But it isn’t their fault that they have frightening appendages, and they have just as much right to be where I am – if not more. My experience has shown that implementing the strategy of making an effort to avoid instantly leap out of my body and run away when I see one, attempting to stay composed and breathing steadily, and intentionally reflecting about their good points, has begun to yield results.

The mere fact that they are hairy creatures that scuttle about with startling speed in a way that causes me nocturnal distress, is no reason for they warrant my loathing, or my shrieks of terror. I can admit when my reactions have been misguided and motivated by irrational anxiety. It is uncertain I’ll ever reach the “catching one in a Tupperware container and taking it outside” stage, but one can't be sure. A bit of time remains within this old dog yet.