Bat in the belfry

so. It's like 3:30. And I just caught a bat. The cats were racing through the house in my sleep. Zoom into the bedroom. Zoom out of the bedroom. Wait, that wasn't just in my sleep. And what is that noise? The light goes on, and there's a little bitty brown bat getting pummeled by two of my biggest cats. Of course the wife says, "Don't let them eat the bat!" Come again? So I smack the cats outta the way — thereby ensuring good natured, affectionate responses &mdash and grab the bat, which also accepts the new situation with calm and equinamity. In an "I'm so going to kill you, your children and your grandchildren, all with the same dull, rusty spoon" sort of way. Fortunately, brown bats have very little teeth. I say fortunately, because at 3:30 in the morning, I'm a little rusty on my bat-to-English translation skills. I was pretty sure the horible grinding sound coming from the bat's mouth wasn't it saying, "Oh hello, old chap. Nice night for crumpets and tea." Well, what ever it was saying, it bit me square on the thumb.

*crank*

So I threw it. All the way down the stairs. But it never hit bottom. Though it was pitch black, I know this because physics tells me that when a bat hits the wall or the floor at high velocity, some of its kenetic energy is absorbed by the wall, some turns to heat energy, and some turns to sound energy, hence

*kersplat!*

Since there was no kersplat, the bat, being a card-carrying member of the amazing fly-blind-through-a-forest-of-gleaming-razors-at-night club, probly flipped itself around and at least glided, if not actually flew to a safe spot. I was in the bathroom washing my hands when the cats started checking out the shower stall.I figured the cats might be indulging in their well-known penchant for grooming themselves by preparing to run a nice hot bath, complete with bubbles at 3:30 in the morning. But just to be on the safe side, I decided to check it out. Sure enough, there was the bat. On the far edge of the tub. On the wife's shampoo bottle. This time, I got smart. I put on a glove *before* grabbing the bat. Then I took the little hell-raiser outside and let it go. Now the wife tells me that no matter what, I have to go get rabies shots. I have to ask her if she means tonight, right now, or maybe at a somewhat more civilized hour. Say, like 4 a.m. She said that if I get rabies, I die. Just like that. Since I like living, I figure I'll go talk to my doc, even though I have a feeling it's gonna hurt.