It was a dark and snowy night. Recent snows had caused me to get into my kindling stores. One was a box of good hickory twigs in the fruit cellar. There was a tiny noise that I couldn't identify as I dumped the cardboard box of twigs into a tote, which I carried into the house.
All the pets were with me, watching a movie in front of the wood stove. A noise was heard from the bedroom. Pandemonium broke out when I saw what looked like a bird flying around. The dog barked and lunged at it. The cats eagerly waited for it to dive within claw's reach. When it lighted on the wall by the ceiling, I realized it was one of the Little Brown Bats. It had a surprisingly big wingspan for such a little creature. It swooped all over.
Quickly ushering the pets out and closing the doors, I called my wildlife expert. Lissa said to try and catch it in a blanket and get it back to the fruit cellar.
When I returned to the bedroom, it had stopped flying around. It was nowhere to be seen.
The dear Little Brown Bat was finally found, clinging to the backside of the drapes. When I'd shopped for material to make drapes, I wanted some beautiful damask, but couldn't afford it. Consoling myself, I decided that such elegant fabric would be too grand for my modest home. Then I laughed, realizing such a rationalization was merely sour drapes.
Now, I was glad the fabric was lightweight. I put on my boots, gloves, hat, coat and new bee veil, just in case it wanted to fly in my face. I gently bundled the bat in the drapes, taking the curtain rod with it. Shining a big flashlight in my other hand, I stepped out into the horizontal snow. As I made my way through a three-foot drift, I couldn't help but wonder if anyone else was thus occupied during what seemed to be a blizzard. The curtain rod dragged in the snow, but the vital contents were safe from the storm.
Back down in the fruit cellar, I opened the drapes and placed the bat back on the cardboard box it seemed to favor. I apologized for disturbing its hibernation. I had been sure the pair of them had left weeks ago.
Back in the house, I kept a sharp watch out for the other bat. I checked the tote of kindling, peered behind drapes and was on high alert for some time.
The next day, I took a small box full of soft fuzzy fabrics down for it. There was no sign of it, so I guessed that it was tucked into the rack of wood down there.
Although the house was warmer for the poor critter, I fear they really don't make ideal house pets.
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