The last 20 or hours have pretty bizarre.
...you can't make this stuff up.
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There once was a cat.
A cat, who decided to kill a bat.
This was not her first offense.
It was not the first time this cat had committed murder. She was, after all, a feral cat.
I mean, what can be expected from a cat born into such undesirable circumstances?
She had ended birds, moles, rabbits, and other unidentified creatures.
Her redeeming qualities were that she was incredibly affectionate, came when you whistled for her, tried to go on walks with her people, would let strange toddlers pet her, kept snakes at bay, and was incredibly low maintenance.
She was the perfect pet, really.
That was, until she killed a bat.
The girls told Mom what the cat had done.
She, as busy as she normally was, wrinkled her nose, and replied,
"Okay, yuck...well, send a picture to Daddy."
"Oh! And DON'T touch it!"
Then she went about her business, as usual.
Daddy came home, after the girls were in bed, asleep.
He was settling in nicely in his big comfy bed...just pulling the covers up, when he started to ask Mom about the day.
"Yeah, so the girls told me Gabbie killed a bat," he said.
"MmHmm" Mom sleepily replied.
"A bat.....A bat. That's kind of crazy she killed a bat… a BAT!"
Dad sat straight up in bed suddenly.
It was as if the 100 watt light bulb of intelligence, intuition, and caution was abruptly, blindingly turned on.
"I mean, a BAT. I think you have to assume all bats have rabies. Did the girls touch the bat?"
"They said they didn't." replied Mom.
"...but they definitely have handled the cat since the bat incident."
At that very moment, she entered the Panic Zone.
You know that zone.
Her heart started beating faster.
She immediately grabbed her phone, goes to cdc.gov and feverishly entered "bats" in the search bar.
Dad threw off the covers, put his shorts on, trotted upstairs, and totally interrogated the 9 and 11 year olds.
He comes back downstairs, satisfied that they had not, in fact, handled the bat, but was worried about
whatifthecatwasbittenbythebat?!
whatifthebatwasrabid?!
He calls his veterinarian friend.
(It's 9:45 p.m., mind you)
Not everyone is up at that time, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
I mean, facts were needed.
The conversation lasted about 12 minutes.
As it was winding down, Dad was pulling on his boots as he spoke,
"So what you're saying is, I need to find the bat...
yeah......the girls scooped it up with a shovel and threw it over the fence, past the retaining wall, into the woods below, like I told them to do...
yep...I have a big flashlight...
yep....
okay, well thanks, man....
I'll call you back."
Because Mom can read his body language, she knows that his shaking his head, running his hand through his hair means only one thing:
dadgumit. It's 10:00 at night. I am too tired for this.
Being the angelic soul that she is, Mom quickly gets out of bed, and rouses the 11 year old girl out of bed to come show the exact spot to which the bat was flung.
Fast forward 15 minutes.
Grandpa and Daddy were over the 7 foot retaining wall, holding flashlights, knee deep in woods, scouring through 2 feet of leaves, infinite branches and countless mounds of "yard disposal", in search of a relatively small, very well camouflaged, dead, brown bat.
Kids and Mom were peering over the fence, praying for God to have mercy and to please expose the bat.
Mom leaned over to Daughter and says, "Those right there, are the two best men on the face of the planet." 11 years old quickly agrees.
What do you know....the bat was found. Exactly within a two square foot area that the girls said he would be.
Mom was very impressed, very proud of her girls, her men, and oh so thankful for a God who hears prayers about bats, of all things.
Mom was very impressed, very proud of her girls, her men, and oh so thankful for a God who hears prayers about bats, of all things.
Dad called vet friend back, humbly gloating in the miraculous discovery of the bat.
At the Doc's direction,
the bat, poor soul, was put in a ziplock and placed in the fridge...
Mom was instructed to take the bat, first thing in the morning, to animal control.....
put the cat in a crate,
take the cat to the vet to be quarantined,
and to wait for the news.....
would the bat be rabies negative
or rabies positive?
Negative would mean, all is well.
Positive, of course, would mean all is NOT well.
Gabbie would be put down and family would most likely all need to be treated with shots.
The sun rose, as it always does, that Tuesday morning.
Girls were taken to school, and Mom proceeded with following the directions she was given.
The cat, who had been placed under house arrest on the screened in back porch, had escaped during the night, so she became Priority #2.
Bat was retrieved from the fridge...*shudder and gag*...
and was put in the Suburban floor.
At that moment, the cat leisurely strolled up.
So, Mom, readied the kennel in the suburban, donned her garden gloves, and picked up the obliging kitty.
It took a little pushing and prodding, but Gabbie was secured in the crate for her ride to the vet's office.
62 seconds later, the potentially bat bitten, rabies infested cat, was roaming freely in the car because the crate lock had apparently not been secured.
Mom panicked, pulled the car over, quickly, and easily coaxed the cat into her arms. While she waited for Son to open the back door, the cat does what scared cats do.
She figured out the ridiculous human plan, and proceeded to scratch and claw at the monster holding her and scampered away to anyplace but where she was.
The. End.
That was my Tuesday.
How was yours?
I for one, am really hoping the bat test for rabies is negative.
I mean, let's keep it real.
How humiliating would it be to die of rabies?
I'm a person...
not a racoon...
not a wild dog...
and certainly not a creepy little bat.
If I can help it, I'm not going out like that.
My tombstone will not say,
"Here lies Mom. Death by rabies."
No ma'am.
Results tomorrow.....stay tuned.
I can't believe I'm telling the world I may have to have rabies shots.
Anyhoo....
Also really hoping Gabbie comes home.
I think we may have eternally offended her with our shenanigans.
Bless her.
My poor kids.
Will Gabbie come home?
Will the bat have rabies?
Do we have to get shots?
Are you going to have to get shots?
What are rabies?
When I mentioned that as a prayer request at school, the boys laughed at me and I mean, that just really hurt my feelings.
It's all my fault.
My friend told me there is only one way to tell if you have rabies….that is you have to be foaming at the mouth.
My friend told me there is only one way to tell if you have rabies….that is you have to be foaming at the mouth.
Gabbie hates us.
She will never come home.
What are rabies again?
Yes.
Today has been a doozy.
~stacey
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