Thursday morn, 3 AM, whip the covers aside, leap out of bed, to something chirping/squealing under those covers. I am hiding behind the bathroom door, and I am not awake enough yet to know why. Or what. Or if I am awake. This portion is still a blur.
No word of a lie Mom, something, that sounds an awful lot like a bat, was trapped under the covers in my bed. Trapped. In my bed, were i was just 4 minutes before sleeping. Tentatively grab corner, and whip covers off, and squealing thing is released, and fly’s into the kitchen.
I decide this is the good time to take a break, and adjourn to the stoop. Having considered my options, and finding myself without any, I return inside, sneaking in (no idea why), peak head around the door into the kitchen, and the bat looks as though it’s about as impressed with the circumstances as I, as desperately climbs up my blinds.
I return to the stoop.
At this point I’m thinking maybe I could just let him have the place, I can sleep under a bridge.
No, that is stupid, so I go back in.
It has switched windows. Well, I decide I should, at least, get a picture, if only as an indication of what caused the coronary. You know, for when they find my body lying sprawled on the floor, they’ll know why.
I return to the stoop after posting the picture on Facebook.
I once again decide to return to the scene. It has now managed to fall into the dogs empty metallic water dish…and it’s trapped. Climbs up the side, and slides back down…climbs up the side, slides back down. It isn’t squealing now, more like crying really.
It’s at this point pity for its helpless plight takes presidency over the creepy bat, and I start looking around the room for something to put in the dish so I get his creepiness out of my house.
Collider lid. HA!!! Yes!
And out it went…even resisted the urge to lob, no, I set it gently on the step, knocked the lid off a little, and shut that door.
Do you think there may be some significance that this is the third time I’ve had an up and personal with one? I wonder.
The first encounter took place back in 2003 during the blackout, which was by itself creepy enough. But no, I am in a pub, helping them drink the beer in the cooler (I’m helpful like that), and this bat fly’s from the back of the pub, over my head, and p!op.
The second encounter was last year, August 6th. Same place…but it disappeared…or…er…didnot squeal, and I convinced myself it was a really big moth.
After some deduction, via google, I see the significance… yes…bats are able to fly about August if they are born in June.
Well, now there you go, and today my birthday. August 16th. Maybe it’s time I learn to fly? Found out bats also represent change, rebirth, and our need to socialize more, since female bats colonize whilst they rear their young.
Thinking today about you all alone, in that hospital room so far away from home, with this new little being in your arms…48 years ago today.
Love you Mom…
In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Creepy.”