Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Inspired by Dr. Bitch I will now share with you my bat story.

It was nighttime, and I was in bed, ready to sleep.
There was a rustling noise (kind of like the sound of a cat playing with the vertical blinds) in the other room, which I ignored. (Because, I had a cat that liked to play in my vertical blinds).

But the rustling noise continued, and I suddenly realized that the kitty could not be playing in the blinds beacuse she was in bed with me!

Grabbing the phone (so I could do an emergency 911) I went to the living room and turned on the light, and saw a little bird flying overhead. (Now, of course, if you've read the title of this post, you've already figured out that it wasn't a bird, but I didn't know that yet!)

When I was growing up, birds used to get stuck in our furnance pipe all the time. Dear 'Ole Dad would have me hold open the backdoor while he unscrewed a pipe in the furnance. As soon as it was open the bird would smell fresh air and fly right out the door. SO . . . using those memories as a guide, I opened the patio window and waited for the "bird" to fly out of my apartment.

But it didn't.

That bird just flew around in circles
Around and around and around and around
So . . . I called Dear 'Ole Dad and asked for advice.

It was while I was on the phone with him that the creature settled himself on a lamp, so I was able to get a little close (not too close) and see that this "bird" looked kind of like a hampster - - and then I realized that the critter was a bat

I tried to unplug the lamp (on which the bat was resting) and move it outside. But the bat didn't like that and he started flying around the room again.

Dear 'Ole Dad then suggested sprying something yucky (like Windex) at the bat, hoping that the fumes would spray him out. I sprayed, and sprayed and sprayed and sprayed hoping to corner him out the window - but it didn't work. (At this point, like Bitch, I thought about leaving the patio window open all night so the bat could fly out - but squireles and stray cats often came on my patio, and I didn't want them wandering into my kitchen).

It was at this point that Dear 'Ole Dad came up with the idea of wacking the critter with a tennis racket. (Uh, yeah. Even if I owned a tennis racket, it's not likely that I'd have the hand-eye coordination to hit a bat). But, not having any better idea, I grabbed a broom and tred (unsuccessfully) to smack the bat.

Now you must remember it's like 11:30 at night.
I'm in my pajamas
The lights are on
The window is wide open
The carpet is covered with the slippery smelly fallen mist of lemon windex
And I'm flaying a broom around my living room.

I could hear people outside walking by - but I didn't care
My only mission in life was to get the bat out
And I took a solid swing at the bat
Lost my balance
Sliped on the slippery windex covered carpet
And fell.

It was that point when I realized how surreal it all was. (I thought, "This has got to be what it feels like to be high.")

Pride wounded, butt hurting, and bat still flying around the room, I turned on the kitchen celling fan to help disperse the overly windexed smell.

The Bat flew right into a fan blade
Which propelled him

I have no idea how the bat got into my apartment
And I moved a few weeks later, so I never bothered to report it to the building matience guys.

But that bat was the weirdest thing in the whole wide world.