It was very pleasantly cool all day today, with dry crisp air, but at dusk I still had the garage doorway open to the house, so that Miss Emma Lynne could come and go as she pleased. Indoors, I was sitting at the computer and I was suddenly annoyed by what I thought was a large horsefly whizzing past my head. As I turned to look, Miss Emma Lynne had become very agitated, woofing and wagging up a storm. When I followed her out into the kitchen, she was acting more like a good Pointer, rather than a black Labrador Retriever. She wanted to show me a tiny brown bat that was perched high up on my very dusty stoneware pottery pitcher on the corner shelf.
Well, of course, there was nothing to be done about it right away, due to the crowded nature of the long-unused dining area in my hoarder's house. I couldn't have gotten over all my clutter of stuff to get to that poor little bat even if I'd tried! So I petted Miss Emma's raised hackles and reassured her as to what a good dog she was. I turned to go eat my supper with Felix in front of the TV.
In about 10 minutes, I could hear a scuffle and woofs from the kitchen and I went to see what had transpired. In her tremendous excitement, Miss Emma Lynne had upchucked some of her kibble on the linoleum floor. She was on point again, woofing and rumbling. This time, she was showing me that my little bat friend had flown across the kitchen and was on top of my refrigerator amidst the clutter there. Again, I spoke reassuringly to both mammals, the dog and the bat.
It was quick work to clean up the small barfy spot with a damp paper towel. Then I was off to find my dollar-store bamboo-handled butterfly net. I keep one handy for just these kinds of rescues. Remember, I am a hoarder. Several encounters with grateful birds have proved that having a butterfly net is worthwhile to me.
With Felix's tall-man help, we gently and quietly cleared away some key items of stuff from on top of the fridge. I was then able to drop the net over the frightened creature. He squeaked in terror as I held the net flat against the top of the refrigerator. Felix managed to slide a piece of stiff cardboard underneath the net and underneath the brown bat, such that he was secured.
Miss Emma followed me as I took the netted bat outdoors, through the garage and out onto the deck. No pictures, but a very happy, very dusty bat was released into the twilight. He, or she, flew away without any apparent injury or hesitation.
Now Miss Emma Lynne, exhausted by all this hubbub, can relax.
By the way, I did close that door into the garage. Don't you just love happy endings?