Last night I was sitting in the recliner reading when this BAT came flying in from the back of the house. It buzzed around my head and up around the light and was banging off the walls. I got all excited and hollered for iWof to come save me. He yelled, ‘what’s wrong?’ Of course he won’t get up from his game for just ANY minor emergency. There has to be a severed limb and blood. I screamed, ‘There is something huge flying around in here.’ Of course he thought there must be a gnat or something flying through the house. I was sure it was a vampire bat. I just knew the thing was going to land on me and bite my neck. (Did I mention that I was reading a vampire romance?)
As iWof leisurely strolled down the hall, the ‘creature’ (for lack of a better word) landed on a pillar candle sitting on the hearth. The pillar is about 6 inches tall and this thing stretched from the top to the bottom. Now that I got a good look at it, I decided it looks like an enormous moth. I’ve never seen a moth that big. It was black with gray spots. iWof, my brave knight, went over to get a closer look. Meanwhile, I am cowering in the recliner with my legs tucked under me and a throw wrapped around my throat. (I still was not convinced it wasn’t going to turn into a tall dark hunka burning love with a widow’s peak; that wanted to bite my neck.)
iWof startled the ‘creature’ and it flew up and landed inside the light. We’re talking 100 watt bulbs. I thought it was toast. But iWof got a step stool then reached up and flushed it out. It was flying around crashing into things again so we opened the door hoping it will fly out. iWof was trying to bat it out the door. He looked like a basket ball player hopping around trying to block the 3 pointer. Then the darn thing flew into the kitchen. (See, I KNEW it was hungry.) Obviously this is a job for a brave female. Besides, I don’t like the door standing open. I’m afraid a snake will crawl in if you leave the door open. Ok, I admit it, I am more afraid of snakes than vampire bat-like moths.
So I cautiously unwrapped the blanket from around my neck, unfolded my wobbly legs and went into the utility room to retrieve the fly swat. (I am certain that this ‘creature’ took one look at my piddly swatter and laughed his Texas sized butt off.) At any rate I started swatting like Phil Hughes. I’m fairly certain I heard moth-like laughter as he darted and weaved around me. And iWof said the words that made me wonder if he had gone soft liberal on me… ‘Don’t kill it.’
Don’t kill it? It’s as big as my dog. It probably craps like a goose. What? Does he think we NEED another pet? So, I said, ‘Whaddya mean don’t kill it’? He said, ‘Let’s just try and get it outside.’ What? So it can eat the siding off the house? Okay, we need a plan. That is when I realized that Zoey headed for the hills as soon as I started swinging the swatter. (I don’t know why she is afraid of fly swatters, she has never been hit with one.) But Chloe, my fierce little 4 pound warrior, was trying her best to protect me from the flying beastie. Every time it dipped low she was snapping, snarling and giving it her best shot.
While iWof was running from one side of the room to the other chasing the beggar, I stopped and looked around. What do you do when you have a 747 flying around your kitchen? Ahhhhaaa… You NET it. I don’t have a net. But I spied my jacket laying on the back of the chair. So I backed away into the corner hunkered down and said, ‘Ah iWof. Maybe you should grab my jacket and try to catch it with the jacket.’
On the next circuit, iWof reached up and nabbed the flying fangster with the jacket. I ran over and opened the door which had been closed at some point. iWof carried the jacket encased wooly mammoth outside. When he opened the jacket he had to kinda shake it to get the ‘creature’ to let go. (I fully expect to have a bowling ball size hole in the back of my garment.) But alas, the creature flew off into the wind.
It may have been just my imagination, but I was pretty sure I heard an eerie chuckle and the dark sinister words…’I’ll be back for you, my pretty.’
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