Author’s Note: This is the second time I am writing this post, because as I hit “post” blogger kicked me out. And the only thing saved in the draft when I logged back in was the first two sentences. That will teach me not to type in Word first. In case you’re wondering, the first version was fucking hysterical.
So I’m walking from my obscenely-priced open lot parking spot to work this morning…
I remotely register a girl walking her dog towards me less than a block away, but mostly I’m humming and thinking about all the super cool crafts and activities I’m going to get to do with the girls over my next week off from work.
Not buying it? Tough. It is irrelevant to the story.
Suddenly, I hear her start to get a little frantic. “Oh my god. Oh my god!” Yes, I hear you, sister. Over a week of round the clock child care. What was I thinking?
She starts to become entwined in her retractable leash. At some point it looks as if she is trying to catch the dog and at other times it looks like she’s running away from it, but basically they are just spinning in circles.
I see something brown flapping around in the dog’s mouth and I think, ahh…the dog picked up a dead squirrel. I figure I’ll come to her rescue and just use her poop bag to grab the thing. No need for hysterics ma’am, I’m a professional.
I mean really…the screeching…what the?
She turns to me with panic-struck eyes and it’s like slow motion.. “Ppleeaase…heeellpp…meee.”
There is a BAT hanging off her dog’s face.
Alright, that’s something you don’t see everyday. But still. I am no stranger to wayward bats. I can do this, I just need something to brush it off the dog. And just like that, the dog shakes his head again and knocks the bat loose.
The dog seems to be fine.
Now I’m staring at a bat spread eagle on the sidewalk…twitching. This will eat at my conscious All. F-ing. Day.
I think, if I just had a shovel. I could never kill a living creature, but I could (a) make a guy that walks by do it, or (b) throw it in a garbage can to suffer in privacy. Alas, I’m in front of Old Stone Church and the sanctuary is not open until 9, so God’s not doing me any favors.
Then I see a Cleveland Alliance SUV parked over in front of Key Tower and I march my ass in its direction. This is exactly the type of shit they should be handling – Killer Daytime Bats.
The police officer roles down his window.
Me: Um a dog just got attacked by a bat over there.
Officer: A what?
Me: A bat.
Officer: A what?!
Me: A BAT! Like those things that fly around. The dog shook it loose and now it’s lying on the sidewalk and bats aren’t really supposed to be out in the day…so could you get someone to move it before it bites someone?
I’m pretty sure he didn’t believe a word I was saying because he asked me to repeat SEVERAL times where the bat was, even though I was clearly pointing to the front of a Cleveland Historical Landmark.
Officer: Well, I can call it into the dispatch, but I’m not sure if there is anything we can do about it.
Not sure if there is anything you can do about it? A shovel, people! That’s all you need. What is this world coming to that we don’t know how to handle rabid bats!
He headed over (in his SUV) to assess the situation. My luck, the bat had probably regained his senses during this exchange and had flown off to cause the officer to think…yep, bat shit crazy.