The Night I Almost Slept in My Car
It was a usual night. Just as soon as I settled in my bed with a book, the dog started pacing. She started at the window fan, which conveniently sucks in lots of smells for her to sample. She can stand in the middle of the room, raise her nose, and know immediately what is going on for miles.
Unfortunately, this means she is aware of every cat, ground hog, toad or large moth in the area. She knows what neighbors are getting in late and whose baby is crying for a bottle. Normally, she keeps her reactions down to growls, grunts and snorts, unless something gets really close. Then the barking begins. Sometimes, I just have to put on her leash and drag her into the bedroom, and muscle her into lying down and shutting up.
So, when on this hot, end of summer night, she began her usual pacing, sniffing and complaining, I ignored her. She wasn’t barking, I had the radio on, I could go to sleep. In fact, I was drifting off when she woke me – not with barking, but with the sound of her feet racing, cartoon-like, in place on the kitchen floor. She actually fell over, got up and started running again. Kitchen, living room, bathroom and back – sniffing, snorting and panting, but not barking.
I yelled at her to stop, she didn’t listen. Then, the cockatiel began beating her wings furiously inside her dark cage. With a big sigh, I got up from my bed, turned the light on in the hall, opened my mouth to yell at both my pets, when something large and dark swooped in front of my face. The dog was hot on its trail. At first I thought, another moth got in the house, but then it came back at me, and I threw myself back in my bedroom and slammed the door. A BAT! A bat was flying around in my house!
My dog scratched at the door, and I could see the long hair of her tail peeking out from under it – but I didn’t open it. Call me a coward, but she has a rabies shot, I don’t.
I used my cell phone to try and call for help. Typically, I had no service indoors. So, I was either trapped permanently in my bedroom, or I had to get out of the house. The open crack above my door made me realize that the bat could zoom right through it and corner me. I hitched my pajama top over my head and dashed out of my bedroom and, in Olympic record-breaking time, sprinted to the front door, again leaving my dog behind. She was on her own. Time to make good on all those threats she was always barking at the cats and squirrels.
I sat in my car. It was midnight. I faced the real possibility of sleeping in the car. I called one friend for help – no answer. They were asleep of course. I called my sister who lived nearby. She was awake all right, partying with her neighbors in celebration of the Labor Day holiday. They soon arrived in jovial spirits, with a net.
We went back in the house. I crouched down behind my sister who had her hood pulled over her head. There was no sign of the bat. I asked the dog, “where is it, where is it?” and she bounded toward the bathroom, the only room where I hadn’t turned the light on. We approached, the neighbor with the net first, and my sister and I creeping behind him. His wife opened the kitchen door and said “Chase it out here!”
But the bat was elusive. Just when we thought it wasn’t in the bathroom, we moved the shower curtain and it flew directly at us at top speed. My sister and I screamed – I must admit - we screamed like little girls – and we threw ourselves to the floor. I latched onto my sister’s leg and we screamed again as the bat flew over us one more time. Of course, my sister’s neighbors were laughing at us hysterically.
Finally, the bat headed for the living room and my sister bravely stood in the doorway waving a pillow to keep it from coming back that way. The front door was opened, and out it flew, but it turned around and came back in!
More screaming, more hitting the floor. That must have convinced the varmint that this was hostile territory and it turned around and went out, this time for good. I slammed the door. I thanked my rescuers who thought this was the funniest thing they had done in a long time. The dog and I collapsed and didn’t wake up until the sun was high in the sky the next day.
I am paranoid now about any rustling, flapping or squeaking sounds I hear after it gets dark. I open and close my exterior doors quickly, all the time my eyes watching over my head. I’m hopeful that this is the last attack of the rhyming pests: rats, cats, and bats, but I can never be sure. I’m checking the rhyming dictionary now, looking for hints.
Hey, what’s that cloud of flying things hovering in my yard – could it be gn---?
No comments:
Post a Comment