Last night, after we had all snuggled in to our beds, I decided to get up to take some medicine. I decided that bringing a bottle of water back to bed with me would be a good idea. We keep our bottled water in the enclosed garage, which was also Goose's (dog) temporary housing for the cold night. I turned on the light to the garage, opened the door, saw Goose laying on his pad, and looked up to see SOMETHING FLYING AT MY HEAD! I truly have no idea of the true sequence of events that followed, but I know they included me saying some choice words that included Lord Almighty, ducking, and shutting the door as I came back into the house. When I stopped by my cussing and myself, I found myself standing several feet from the door and felt like my eyes had just tried to escape my head.
For most late night events, I don't dare wake Ep because usually it will just leave me with a cranky husband who has no idea why "this" has to be handled right now in the middle of the night at 11pm. But, oh, for say what appeared to be a BAT flying at my head...he was going to be awake. I got sshhhh'd several times, not only when I woke him, but also as he stared bleary eyed out into the garage while I recounted the series of events. I worked hard to keep my voice down while trying to emphasize that I THINK THAT WAS A BAT THAT FLEW AT MY HEAD! AND HE IS IN OUR GARAGE! DO SOMETHING!!!
I already knew that my strapping 6'5 gorgeous husband who is the definition of calm in most emergencies is VERY afraid of mice. Last night, I found out that he isn't a fan of bats either. I can handle mice, but bats? I don't know. However, in our household of 2 adults, 1 child, and a dog....the options of who was going to handle this were dwindling. If anyone was going to DO SOMETHING, my options had dwindled to that someone being me. It was at this point that I reminded my husband that he is a chicken (with another four letter word behind it).
Note: most people would have taken Goose back out to his fenced yard prior to any further action. I didn't. Instead, the door to the garage/outside world was swung wide open and Goose was freely coming and going from the garage.
One adult in our house pretty much refused to go out into the garage and stood behind the closed door watching while his brave wife tried to figure out how to get the bat back outside where he belonged. It was from behind the door that he nearly peed his pants a few minutes later, not from fear but from laughing at me. We had figured out where the bat was...inside a cabinet. I grabbed a golf club and opened the cabinet door. Sure enough, there was the enormous bat perched upside down clinging to the inside of the cabinet door. I did what any logical adult would do. I told my husband to get our son's small nerf football and toss it to me. His effort to open door and toss me the football in a 1/100th of a second resulted in a string of words that I shouldn't say falling straight out of my mouth. The football went straight up and hit the roof of the garage, bounced down, and the dog grabbed it. I finally got the ball from him and threw it at the bat. The bat didn't catch it. In fact, the bat didn't move. The ball dropped right below the cabinet. Ah, Goose...get the ball! Yeah Goose! Somewhere along the way, I got frustrated with the ball effort and threw an empty plastic cup at the cabinet. I missed, but I did hit the door which Ep was standing behind and his reaction involved some jumping and ducking. I got a good laugh. Finally, I hit the cabinet close enough to make the bat leave his perch and fly across the garage. I hoped he would aim for the open door. He didn't. Instead, I watched in horror as he swooped down and went behind another cabinet on the other side of the garage.
Side Note #2: I was recently given a smorgasboard bag of stuff. Inside the bag was some stuffed animals. None of which made any noise. I gave a few of them to Goose to keep him company (read: chew to death) in the garage. One of them was a monkey.
So, the bat flew across the garage and at the same moment Goose dropped the stuffed monkey at my feet. It was at this exact moment that the stuffed monkey suddenly started making loud EEEEEE EEEEEE EEEE screaches. That was also the point where I had my second heart attack of the night and Ep nearly peed his pants laughing at me. Truthfully, it took me a few minutes to determine that the noise came from the monkey and not the bat. Thankfully, I know how to laugh at myself and laughed along with Ep. I am still laughing about it. And I still think my husband is a chicken!
This story is long enough, so the end result is this. Ep kept begging me to give up. Kale woke up and Ep went to take care of him. I finally lost the bat somewhere behind the cabinet, despite the fact that the cabinet was fully exposed by this point and not touching the wall anywhere. I had a flashlight and could see all nooks/crannies...but alas, I have no idea wher ethe bat went. Either he vanished (doubtful), somehow crawled under the cabinet, or somehow found a place to crawl into the wall/foundation area of the garage. So, I went to bed.
This morning, we have no idea if the bat is still in the garage and are still completely clueless about how to catch a bat or get him outside. Oh the joys of being a homeowner and being a brave wife with a husband who is a chicken.