So! I got home from work yesterday, and I went to remove the screens from the living room windows so I could close the windows and turn on the AC. (There are no foster cats in the house right now; otherwise OF COURSE I would leave the AC on all day.) I reached for one of the window screens to remove it, and
there was a fucking BAT staring back at me with its beady little fucking eyes. It was on the outside of the screen and and had wedged itself, upside down, up into the corner of the outside window jamb. I saw that bat, and I lost. my. shit.
Now, some of you may be wondering if I exaggerate the events of my life for entertainment value here on my blog.
Um ......... no. I actually TAME STUFF DOWN for the blog. About thirty percent of the bizarre crap that happens to me on a daily basis never even makes it here, mostly due to time constraints. I have been going through some ....... stuff right now that I haven't been discussing here, in addition to everything I HAVE been discussing here. Basically, my life is nuts, despite my best efforts to CALM THINGS DOWN ALREADY. So, when I saw that FUCKING bat ........
oh hell no. Noooooooooooo!
Now, I have not always been anti-bat. There are lots of bats in my neighborhood, and I used to enjoy watching them swoop through the night air. I'd throw popcorn off the deck, just to watch them dive down to investigate. I've had a few get into my apartment over the years, and I'd just open all the windows and the door, turn off the light, and go back to sleep. They'd always be gone in the morning.
But then one day I went into the shed, and there was a bat roosting on the ceiling light fixture. I went to get a closer look, and that bat opened up its beady eyes, curled his lip so I could see all his pointy little bat teeth, and fucking hissed at me. I do not know if you have ever seen a bat up close, but they are ugly little fuckers (wow, do you think I'm using the f-word enough here? Maybe I should throw in a few more.) And ever since that little bastard hissed at me, I have not been a bat fan. Call it a visceral reaction.
Oh, and all bats are "he"s. That's right, they're all MEN. There are no girl bats. FACT. (not)
So, extremely long story short, I got a cake slicer (hey! That's what was lying around!) and poked at the bat and he flew away. But when it came to the moment of truth, when it was time to actually POKE THE BAT? Oh dear God, honestly, I just wanted to fall into a quivering heap on my living room floor. I DID NOT WANT to have to poke that bat. I'm shuddering just writing this here.
Oh! So then, of course, I wondered if my Frankenfoot was caused by a bat bite. And now I have rabies and am going to foam at the mouth and die! Because that bat was roosting outside in broad daylight and folks, that just ain't right. But then I was talking to my sister Texas last night, and she reassured me that no, it was not a bat bite, it was probably a brown recluse or black widow spider bite, and I might want to go to the doctor because people die from that stuff, you know!