Don’t get me wrong. I do have a mutual love and respect for the animals we share this earth with. However, at three this morning, all bets were off. As I came to, I heard something that made me suspicious. Then it hit the wall above the head of my bed, just a few feet higher than where my brain was trying to figure out what was gong on. Conditioning took over pretty quickly as my childhood fear of bats kicked in. Once I settled down to the reality of the situation, game on.
For two hours, we dueled. The more I tried to get it out the front door, the more it developed a dislike for me. When all else failed, I grabbed my pillow like a sack of potatoes and proceeded to swing away. A few foul balls and direct hits later, the thing was pretty tuckered out. In a motion of complete surrender, it came right at me. Fastball down the middle, it was down for the count. Slightly stunned, I threw a towel over it, scooped him up, ran out the front door of the building, and tossed both onto the front walk. The whole trip, the little guy got a second wind, squirming and squeaking louder than he did during our whole ordeal.
Lying on the front walk, there was no movement. To double check, I pulled the towel off with a quick step backwards. He was seriously confused. Last he remembered, he was confined to the walls of my tiny little apartment. Just like how I woke up confused, his wits kicked in. A few bounces, off he went, and I stumbled back inside. Last thing I remember was the alarm clock saying it was shortly past five, and the sky was somewhere in between blue and orange.