We’ve been together a long time. Dave knows Melissa’s screeches. There is the “ick what is this gooey mess?” screech. Then at a somewhat higher volume there is the “I found a GIANT spider and I am sure he is going to eat me” screech. At the top end of the squeal-o-meter is the “boat is tipped over too far its time to roll up the sail” screech. Today Dave discovered a whole new level of screech – the “OMG there is a creature in the house” squeal. It actually made him run – top speed mind you - from the office to the dining room. Where Melissa then screamed “Stop! Don’t move! You’ll step on it!”
Dave looks down as Melissa is freaking out “what is that thing?!”. Dave says calmly – “it’s a baby bat”. Oh. Well. That’s a whole other thing then. A baby bat needs our help? Lassie kicks into gear. Upon further analysis, we figure that the baby bat is one of the bats that live in the roof top and come out at dusk (very cool to watch at just past sunset). This one made the mistake of flying into the condo – where it promptly ran smack into a fan blade and was knocked out cold.
At this point it is starting to recover but can barely move. But its clear that our presence is freaking it out.
Dave tries to make it a box with some water and food. Alas he climbs out and gets away. We decide to leave him alone and see if he recovers on his own. We close up the deck doors so he can’t wander back inside with the fans. Next morning Dave reports that the baby bat is gone – having successfully flown off. Melissa thinks to herself, “really?”. Alas twas not to be. Next day after sunset he crawled out from whatever hiding place he had found (we think up inside the BBQ cover).
Sadly, we decide that short of taking him to a vet (and where bat vet would be found here we have no idea) there is not much more we can do for him. We decide to take him down to the garden by the pool hoping he can find a way to a nice home from there. We put him gently in the garden. Only to have him crawl his way to the wall and blindly fall over onto the cement – a three foot drop – spat. Sigh. We are really bad rescue crew. We scoop him up again and put him in another garden spot – this one without any drops for him to leap off of.
An hour later we were down in the hot tub and saw the local cat come crawling through the garden on the prowl. Next day – no baby bat in the location we left him. We are telling ourselves he made it safe and sound back home. Because that is what we want to believe.