Warm enough to turn off the furnace last night.
Warm enough to sleep nekkid.
Warm enough to wake up a hibernating flying mammal, in fact!
How can I be so sure? Because one of the fuckers was flying crazy-ass loops, as bats are wont to do, around my bedroom at midnight.
It was one of those rare instances that I had an eensy, teensy amount of regret for kicking out the Man of the House.
As I lay in my bed, under the covers, screaming like a little girl, my new hero sprang into action:
Yes, that is a look of proud victory on the Monster's face. In this picture, he has just made use of his hunting-dog genes to help me tag team the bat. While I was locked in the bathroom shrieking and getting dressed (because the only thing less dignified than running from a bat screaming is running from a bat screaming and nekkid), he was keeping an eye on the bat.
When I emerged, fishing net in hand, he helpfully led me to the intruder, which was being all freaky and shit hanging upside down from the top of the window. When I knocked it out of the air, again and again, he pounced on it, and kept nipping at it till it rose no more.
Me, I can't kill anything bigger than a mosquito. But it's OK if the dog does. That's just nature taking its course. Like the freaking Discovery Channel, right there in my hallway. Hey, that's why I keep their rabies vaccinations current, right?
Oh--and where was Big Head Dog, the vee-cious 10-headed beast, while his master and cohort were bravely doing battle with the 5-ounce dragon? Cowering in the corner. Then he went to hang out in the bathtub for a while. I'm sure, though, if it were, you know, a person attacking me, he would be all over it. He just doesn't do bats, I guess.
No comments:
Post a Comment