So this evening I get a call from my friend Mark, who helps me out with my website and ordering etc. and who lives above me with 2 roommates. He's telling me, "Mike, I have a bat in my apartment". At first I don't believe him, but sure enough a creepy little bat is on his kitchen wall. So we are all a little freaked out. I call Edward, my partner who is at his place and who is a veterinarian. He warns us about rabies and suggests we call animal control. Of course they are closed until Monday. A website suggests we capture it and have it tested especially if a pet has been exposed, of course Mark's cat, Elsie, had a hold of it at one point.
The website also gave instruction on how to catch it. Use a coffee can to place over the bat, then slide a piece of cardboard under then just tape the card board over the can. Well sounds easy, except if you're 4 gay men creeped out just by the sight of a bat. None of us even wanted to get that close to it for fear it would spring to life, start flapping around and get in our hair and give us rabies! Fortunately we're all fairly comfortable with each other so we didn't have the added concern of being seen running and screaming out of the kitchen like a 6 year old girl.
Since it was in an awkward spot, high up where the wall meets the ceiling we decided to forgo trying to capture and just get it to leave. We opened the windows and Mark's roommate Andy, looking like a domestic gladiator with the broom in one hand and pot lid for a shield in the other, was brave enough to open the backdoor which is under where the bat was (probably sleeping). We tried tossing empty plastic soda bottles at it. Apparently we throw in a manner consistent with how we run and scream, like 6 year old girls. Actually it's hard to get any distance or have much control with an empty plastic bottle. Needless to say the bat stayed put.
Next up, Mark's other roommate, Gene attacks with the fire extinguisher. Let me tell you, the stuff that comes out seems toxic with it's nasal searing fumes but only seems to piss off bats. Now the room is filled with a cloud of toxic white, a flying angry bat, and four choking, bat-dodging homosexuals. Add to the scene the fact that it's 10 at night and a lightening storm is raging outside. Despite the turbulence we manage to retreat to the living room, which thankfully has a door between it and the kitchen.
After a moment we peak in and see no sign of the beast. Mark and I venture cautiously in, armed with brooms and mops. No sign. It must have flown out the window. A little more looking around. No bat. Sigh. As we begin to close the windows, a voice, oddly calm, from the the living room, Gene's, "It's still in here..." What? We first think he's kidding. We're in the kitchen and have not seen it. "It's still in here," he repeats, "in the kitchen." As we retreat once again to the living room, Mark and I finally see it again. Yes, it's right there in the kitchen flying around." We shut the door. I go around to the back porch which has the door that looks into the kitchen and see it larger than life, flying back and forth. However the entire kitchen is not visible. The open windows are not visible. Once the bat stops flying back and forth we assume it may have flown out. We all venture back in again, with more caution this time. Again no sign of the bat. It must have flown out. We look all around. It's not there....then...Mark spots it. It is perched on the molding over the pantry door, it's brown and black coloring blending in very well with the wood grain.
Plan C. I had brought up my recycle bin. It's time to kick some bat ass! Mustering up some courage I move in. Nervously, knowing one false move will unleash bat-carnage, I place the bin over the bat and slide it up off the molding so it's against the flat wall. We have containment! But being only 5' 8" it's a bit of a reach for me, and I can't hold it flat against the wall for much longer. Mark takes over holding the bin while I get up on a stool. Now I slide the bin over and down the wall to a more optimal position. Andy slides a large scrap piece of mat board I had (being an artist pays off again!) under the bin and carefully transfers the bin, bat and all, to the floor, where I get busy taping the cardboard onto the bin. Secure in it's cage it is moved to the back porch where it will remain until turned over to animal control on Monday. It's still a mystery as to how the bat got in in the first place.
Ah...just another Friday night!
The website also gave instruction on how to catch it. Use a coffee can to place over the bat, then slide a piece of cardboard under then just tape the card board over the can. Well sounds easy, except if you're 4 gay men creeped out just by the sight of a bat. None of us even wanted to get that close to it for fear it would spring to life, start flapping around and get in our hair and give us rabies! Fortunately we're all fairly comfortable with each other so we didn't have the added concern of being seen running and screaming out of the kitchen like a 6 year old girl.
Since it was in an awkward spot, high up where the wall meets the ceiling we decided to forgo trying to capture and just get it to leave. We opened the windows and Mark's roommate Andy, looking like a domestic gladiator with the broom in one hand and pot lid for a shield in the other, was brave enough to open the backdoor which is under where the bat was (probably sleeping). We tried tossing empty plastic soda bottles at it. Apparently we throw in a manner consistent with how we run and scream, like 6 year old girls. Actually it's hard to get any distance or have much control with an empty plastic bottle. Needless to say the bat stayed put.
Next up, Mark's other roommate, Gene attacks with the fire extinguisher. Let me tell you, the stuff that comes out seems toxic with it's nasal searing fumes but only seems to piss off bats. Now the room is filled with a cloud of toxic white, a flying angry bat, and four choking, bat-dodging homosexuals. Add to the scene the fact that it's 10 at night and a lightening storm is raging outside. Despite the turbulence we manage to retreat to the living room, which thankfully has a door between it and the kitchen.
After a moment we peak in and see no sign of the beast. Mark and I venture cautiously in, armed with brooms and mops. No sign. It must have flown out the window. A little more looking around. No bat. Sigh. As we begin to close the windows, a voice, oddly calm, from the the living room, Gene's, "It's still in here..." What? We first think he's kidding. We're in the kitchen and have not seen it. "It's still in here," he repeats, "in the kitchen." As we retreat once again to the living room, Mark and I finally see it again. Yes, it's right there in the kitchen flying around." We shut the door. I go around to the back porch which has the door that looks into the kitchen and see it larger than life, flying back and forth. However the entire kitchen is not visible. The open windows are not visible. Once the bat stops flying back and forth we assume it may have flown out. We all venture back in again, with more caution this time. Again no sign of the bat. It must have flown out. We look all around. It's not there....then...Mark spots it. It is perched on the molding over the pantry door, it's brown and black coloring blending in very well with the wood grain.
Plan C. I had brought up my recycle bin. It's time to kick some bat ass! Mustering up some courage I move in. Nervously, knowing one false move will unleash bat-carnage, I place the bin over the bat and slide it up off the molding so it's against the flat wall. We have containment! But being only 5' 8" it's a bit of a reach for me, and I can't hold it flat against the wall for much longer. Mark takes over holding the bin while I get up on a stool. Now I slide the bin over and down the wall to a more optimal position. Andy slides a large scrap piece of mat board I had (being an artist pays off again!) under the bin and carefully transfers the bin, bat and all, to the floor, where I get busy taping the cardboard onto the bin. Secure in it's cage it is moved to the back porch where it will remain until turned over to animal control on Monday. It's still a mystery as to how the bat got in in the first place.
Ah...just another Friday night!
5 comments:
Well that was an entertaining story!! I hope you don't have rabies now... but most likely you do! ;)
Love,
Colleen
Yeah Colleen I probably do. Well, at least my artwork might appreciate in value.
I proof read and fixed some of my typos caused by the rabies induced delerium.
Ermm.. I worry more about the kitty. The story was great.
BTW: I'd have fled to the safety of my place and not been of any assistance, except to call every other minute asking, "Is it still there?!?!" Actually, I'd have been screaming that through the phone.
Oh, and I'd have taken the kitty with my, too. Ya know, to protect her.
Funny story Michael. Too bad you didn't catch it on film. It surely would have been more entertaining than anything on Logo.
I have a bat story too, but mine is not nearly as campy as yours.
Best regards,
bartoneye
That was the most horrifying experience I have ever gone through. I didn't understand what I was seeing when Elsie first pounced on it in the pantry. I thought she was just chasing a dust bunny (yes, I know. we need to vacuum more often). But then I saw something move. I figured it was a rat, which freaked me out. But when it then jumped into the air... and didn't come back down...
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