Danielle and I spent our Saturday evening watching Parks and Rec. It’s 12:15, Danielle has just about boarded the last train to Dreamtown and I rushed to catch up. In the TV room, I caught a shadow whizzing through the whitish light of the television. I assume it’s Loki, Danielle’s dopey cat. I then remember that Loki doesn’t have wings.
“Danielle there’s a Bat.” I said, with absolutely no panic in my voice, as a blanket spontaneously shrouded me.
“Ugh.” Danielle awoke.
The Bat circled us. At least I think it did. I spent most of this time under my blanket armor. At some point The Bat flew into the dining room and then into the kitchen. Danielle flipped the light switch and The Bat clung to a curtain that separated the kitchen and computer room, probably thinking something like “man, that was a pretty short night.”
Danielle and I pulled up a link on how to get rid of a Bat. One of the lists included this advice:
Make sure the Bat does not come into contact with pets
As we read this, we heard an inquisitive meow come from Loki, who approached the curtain with playful zeal. Me, not wanting to be at face level or within ten feet of the winged beast, found one of those Grabbers for people who have trouble bending, and poked Loki until Danielle was able to scoop him up.
After Loki was contained we opened the front, side and back doors, which we figured two things would happen:
a) The Bat would feel the breeze and fly out one of the doors.
b) A cloud of bats would come in. Danielle and her family would have to move. Her house would become a cave.
Bats are a known carrier for diseases such as rabies so we donned protective bat clothing; hoodies, sweatpants, leather gloves, and trucker hats for good measure. We then watched as The Bat did absolutely nothing, because he thought it was daytime. We had to go to Plan B: the apprehension and subsequent removal of the threatening other. The catch? We have to do it without hurting The Bat or else Danielle may never be able to sleep again.
Danielle grabbed a heavy towel, “which one of us should do it?”
My hands grow clammy even as I write this. “You should.” I said, confidently.
Now that I was absolved, I began to suggest ways she should grab The Bat. Ways that I would use had I been in her position. We were in a Wild West showdown. I rapidly averted my gaze between Danielle and The Bat. Danielle crept up to The Bat, hands sheathed in a towel, audibly breathing. The Bat, if he was awake, probably wondered why everything was upside down. Danielle covered The Bat in the towel and, like a good magic trick, The Bat disappeared. Danielle ran out the door, set the towel gingerly on the grass, and booked it back into the house. Crisis averted. My hands reverted back to being simply moist.
Here are a couple links for Bat removal as well as FAQ