Wednesday, August 25, 2004

Holy St. Francis of A-Freakin'-sissi, Batman!

About an hour ago, I was just about to take a fistful of prescription drugs, plug in my cell phone and climb into bed when I saw Fred do something he hasn't down since he was a kitten. Back in my Miami apartment, I had a little dressing area with a sink that opened into my bedroom, where I had a giant picture window. I hung some JCPenney curtains opposite said window so I could brush my teeth in my underwear in the morning without sending out a Pervert Alert. Fred's favorite game, when he weighed five pounds, was to leap off the bed onto the curtain, pulling it down (but never while I was changing, so thanks for that, buddy.)

A mere 30 minutes ago, I saw the now substantially larger Fred ready to fling himself onto the curtain, which was odd.. I figured there might be a little moth or something on the venetian blind, although sometimes he's taunted by invisible things, so..... When I tried to shoo him off, the curtain rustled, and the biggest, blackest, giant fucked up scary ass butterfly flew out.

Of course, on closer inspection, (when the big black scary ass butterfly brushed the

hair *by my ear*) I realized it was a bat. It was a fucking bat! Okay, so now I'm screaming, thinking about the rabid otter we did this story about, which brings a barking Bella running into the bedroom. My pudgy, uncoordinated cat has suddenly started channeling the eye-paw coordination of an Olympic judo master, and the bat is looking much more like a hysterical, fluttering frog. (Yeah, I know, it's a mammal. It really just looked like... a frog. With wings.)

Anyway, one sharp shout of "CRATE!" and Bella the WonderDog beat a retreat to her favorite spot. (Love her). Meanwhile, Fred is flipping out and leaping around the bedroom like he's in the dolphin show at SeaWorld. I just washed my bedspread yesterday; I am NOT about to let my cat kill something on it.

Thank God for the deliciousness of Whiska Lickin's. I know the packet says, "Cats will do anything for the yummy taste of Purina Brand Moist Whiska Lickin's! Now even tastier!" but I had no idea. All I had to do was rattle the treat jar and toss a handful of Whiska Lickin's in the bathroom, and Fred abandoned his pursuit. So now it's just me and the bat, with Stephen issuing instructions (he had a bat in company housing back in July) over the phone while simultaneously playing Five Card Stud.

The bat finally landed on the curtain, and I managed to gently press a pillowcase over him, gather the material around him, pull down the curtain, and release the whole bundle onto the fire escape. The bat made the saddest little clicking noise when I did it, too, but hopefully he's flying around out there, eating mosquitos.

In case you were wondering, this was way, way, way scarier than the time Fred found a chameleon, and Bella stepped on its tail, and the tail fell off. The really frightening part is I have no idea HOW it got in here. All my windows have screens, and none of them have been open lately. The window the bat was hiding it has an air conditioner permanently installed in it. It hasn't been open in more than a year.


Sweet Flying-Mammal-Free Dreams, everybody. I know I'll be sleeping with one eye open tonight.

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