Answer:
When I am caught I am thrown away. When I escape you itch all day.
In all the world, none can compare, I am a tiny weaver; my deadly cloth so silky and fair. What am I?
If a man carried my burden, he would break his back. I am not big but leave silver in my tracks. What am I?
You can read me both ways I wear; One way it's a number reversed a snare.
My first half means container. Not a lot of people understand my language.
Runs over fields and woods all day. Under the bed at night sits not alone, With long tongue hanging out, Resting at your feet until we go for a walk