35) To Valhalla And Back*

”Mommy! Daddy! Come quick!” Yelled your middle child, “THERE’S A BAT IN THE SANCTUARY!”

You and David had been downstairs cleaning up from dinner when the kitchen door flew open and your youngest son came in with a flourish of both concern and dramatic flair. He had paused for effect to catch his breath and wipe his dry brow as if he had run Paul Revere style (sans the horse) through town alerting all of the town’s folk to the presence of not the British, but rather that of a Brown Bat. In reality he had run down the stairs into the kitchen. Now he stood heavily panting and huffing…

“What’s going on?“ you asked unphased. At this point you were well versed in the nuances of your children’s voices and what tones actually constituted an emergency situation. This wasn’t it.

He paused to put his right hand on his knee as he bowed his head then raised his left pointer finger to signal that he was far too spent to talk and would need a few minutes to regain his composure.

You couldn’t help but think that it was about time you got these kids out running… real running… like the timed mile runs you had to do back in grade school. Long gone were those days… these kids had no clue what a physical fitness test was… “I had a seven minute mile,” you had told David when the subject had come up… he laughed and told you that he had walked his in fifteen minutes while smoking a cigarette… his gym teacher screamed that if he didn’t put out the cigarette and hustle that he’d make him do it again.

“There was no part of you that wanted to win? To cross that mile line first?” You had asked incredulously… competition practically coursed through your veins.

“Not one bit,” he had said. “For what? To get all sweaty and then go sit back in class? No thanks… one of my friends and I horsed around and made jokes while we walked the whole thing. Coach Ron was fucking pissed.”

You remembered how that guy had screamed at the stragglers to ‘kick it up’ while your class ran…

Some things had definitely changed… like the smoking area at the high school and David’s habit (long gone) while some things had definitely stayed the same… you ran to both win and please, David in true opposite to you fashion, had walked with a cigarette hanging from his mouth… giving absolutely zero fucks no matter how loud Coach Ron screamed.

When your middle child suddenly caught his breath, he stood up straight and repeated it again, “THERE’S A BAT IN THE SANCTUARY! Come on! Let’s go!”

With a flurry he took off again through the basement and the double doors to the flight of stairs… THWUMP, THWUMP, THWUMP… you winced and clenched your teeth with the banging on the stairs.

You looked at David and he looked at you… “So I guess I’m playing Batman then?”

“You know it… there’s no Bat-woman is there? Call me when he finds a litter of kittens… I fancy myself more of a Cat-woman anyhow.”

David washed the dish soap off his hands, dried up then walked into the basement to find his thick leather work gloves.

“Hey do me a favor Cat-woman… can you go find me a box?”

“On it…”

Stacked neatly in the pantry closet right off the kitchen foyer was a small Amazon box. You found an old dish cloth and a few paper towels and neatly lined the box.

Five minutes later David returned with a little brown bat held gently but firmly in his gloves and all three kids on his heals.

“Where was it?” You asked looking at the small bat. This was one of the smallest ones you had seen thus far, it looked very young.

“The kids found him in the Tupperware bin under the leak. Poor thing is wet. I have no idea how long he’s been in there.”

“I heard a noise when I went to get something from my desk and I walked over to the container and found him there!” Said your oldest.

“His wing looks pretty messed up. You think he fell out of the hole in the ceiling with all the rain and landed in the bin unable to fly back out?” David asked looking at the little wet creature in his gloves.

“I would think so… I don’t see how he would have gotten into that bin otherwise.”

“So now what?” He asked.

“How the fuck would I know… I think maybe we should call around and see if we can find a wildlife rescue or something? I know last time I had looked one up for the vacuum bat there was NOTHING close by.”

David sighed then gently put the bat into the box and covered the little winged mammal with the dish cloth to keep it warm before closing the box, “Alright… I’ll see what I can find.”

One by one the kids lost interest in the little brown box with the little brown bat and they made their ways back upstairs…

********************************************

“That wildlife rescue center I called earlier…”

“Yeah?” You said looking up from your computer.

“The owner called me back. She was very nice, told me that we have to keep the bat hydrated and to bring it up to her tomorrow after 1:00pm.” David had walked into the kitchen with the Amazon bat box.

“Ok… and how does one keep a bat hydrated…?” You wanted to know.

“I’m supposed to dip a q-tip in water and hold it near the bat’s mouth so it will suck on the q-tip.”

“Interesting…”

David gently put the box onto the table then plucked a q-tip from his pocket and brought it over to the sink where he turned on the water and soaked the end of it. From his back pockets he pulled out a pair of his thick work gloves and before sitting down.

“We don’t have to worry about getting bit or anything right?”

“No, this lady was very knowledgable and walked me through everything. We’re fine. Can you just hold this q-tip while I put on my gloves?”

He handed you the q-tip and put his gloves on, then carefully opened the box and pulled the dish cloth off the bat. You peered into the box. The little bat’s one wing didn’t look quite right and you could tell he looked very thin.

“She told me that bats can get dehydrated very quickly. They can manage without food for a bit, but if they wake up from hibernation and don’t have water, they won’t live too long,” he said as he gently pulled the little bat out of the box. There was a chatter of styrofoam speak… the bat protested the intrusion. “Ok don’t worry buddy, we’re just helping you out until we can get you some medical care…. You’re ok…” he said.

You handed David the q-tip and he touched it to the little bat’s mouth. The bat opened its mouth revealing the tiniest little teeth you had ever seen and David gently put the q-tip into the little open jaws.

“Is he sucking the water off?” You asked, not quite able to see what was happening.

“I don’t know… he got some water in there, but he’s definitely not happy about any of this.”

There was more styrofoam speak and David handed you the q-tip that you carefully took from him and tossed into the trash can. David put the bat back into the box and covered it up again with the dish cloth. “The lady told me to keep the box in a cool area, not cold but cool enough so he sort of goes back into hibernation…”

“I never imagined I’d be learning bat husbandry when we bought this place…” you said…

“Same,” said David as he walked out of the kitchen with the little brown box.

************************************************************************

“Oh wow… fuck…” David sat at the kitchen table on his phone. You wiped off the counter tops.

“What’s that?”

“I may have overextended myself here with this whole bat thing…”

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

“This bat rehabilitation center trek is going to be a four hour round trip…”

“Shit… well that’s a hike…”

“I guess we don’t really have any other choice… do we?”

“No. That was literally the closest one I could find.”

“At this point we should probably just get our wildlife rehabilitation licensing and start our own bat center… this is starting to become pretty routine… We can be like ‘Belfry Bat’s Rescue Center’ or something…”

“Don’t Vaness… don’t even think about it.”

“It’s not like we don’t have the space for it… or the clientele…”

*************************************************************************

The next day David checked on the bat and offered it some water. The bat wouldn’t take anything from the q-tip.

“I feel so bad for the poor thing… I’m glad we can get it some help today…” you said.

“Did you want to go with me?”

“Four hour car ride? Bat box holding co-pilot? Sure.”

“I want to go too mommy!” Your daughter said, before she grinned and added, “Maybe we can go to Friendly’s too?”

In her mind any drive at least an hour away had the potential to turn into a Friendly’s Ice Cream trip. She was obsessed.

“Sorry Boppy (that was your nickname for her)… we’re going in the complete opposite direction, but the town we’re going to is pretty cool and maybe we can do something fun out there?”

“Darn it! Ok… well I’ll still go… just in case we find one on the way…” she mused.

“I doubt it but… ok…”

You packed uncrustables, two Nutella breadstick packs, some bananas and several dvd’s that your daughter had been very excited to bring so that she could be the first one to watch the little in-car tv. Her brothers opted to stay home even with the knowledge that they were not to play any video games until ALL of their chores were done… and because you didn’t want them on their playstation for hours on end, you snuck a few extras in there.

“You guys are sure that you don’t want to go with us? We might do some cool stuff out there…”

“Nah… we’ll just do our own cool stuff here…”

“Ok.. well the neighbors are home if there’s an emergency… otherwise I have my phone… best behavior… don’t do anything stupid… and we’ll see you around dinner time…”

“Ok mom…” they groaned… and then your eldest son turned to his younger brother, he loved to get a rise out of you, “Should we practice knife juggling or trying to hit each other with my archery set first?”

His younger brother laughed… “How about we just throw bricks at cars?”

“Boys I swear to god…”

“Geez mom… calm down… we’re just joking…”

***************************************************************

In the car your youngest opted to watch The Little Mermaid first. Unfortunately the headphones had no working batteries so she watched and you all listened to the movie. You were surprised that you could recite nearly the entire movie line by line… while often forgetting what you had just walked into a room to do.

The ride took you through back roads, long stretches of rural landscape, barren trees and corn fields covered in snow. There were many massive old farm houses set not too far from the road, some in much better shape than others. The journey was scenic yet slowgoing. When The Little Mermaid ended and there was still a half hour left to go, your daughter had you put on The Grinch.

“You know…” said your middle child a few years ago as you had all sat down to watch The Grinch, “Maybe if the Who’s in Whoville weren’t singing about what an asshole he was all the time, he wouldn’t be so mean…”

You had thought about that… and decided that maybe he was onto something… you probably wouldn’t be at your best either if everyone kept singing about what a piece of shit you were… maybe you’d want to ruin their Christmas too.

“I feel like I’m going to puke…” your daughter said, jarring you out of your Grinch reminiscing…

“That’s why I told you that you couldn’t bring your tablet to draw. Looking at the screen probably made you car sick. I’m going to open the window a bit so you can get some fresh air… close your eyes, take a little nap and we’ll be there soon ok?”

“Ok.”

She looked nearly as green as the Grinch.

“Boy I hope this kid doesn’t barf in the car,” you said quietly to David, “That would be something…”

The roads had gone from straight and flat to sharp turns and steep. Gone were the rolling fields, replaced instead with massive hills flanked on either side by countless leafless trees. In many areas there were large outcroppings of stone cut deep into the towering hills on either side of the snaking road. Most of them were covered in thick sheets of the bluest ice you had ever seen: waterfalls frozen in time.

“Shit… I’m not feeling too well either…” you said, the twists and turns churned your stomach.

“We’re almost there,” David said.

“This is quite the hike out here…” you replied.

“It sure is.”

“Pffffft…. Imagine if we got here after coming all this way and the fucking bat was dead… wouldn’t that be something?” You laughed.

*********************************************************************

“This must be it…” David said pointing to a nearly hidden driveway that veered up a steep hill. The home was set far back but visible through the barren trees. There was an “OPOSSUM CROSSING” sign on one of the trees to the left of the driveway and another sign that urged people to stay off the property and refrain from playing loud music so as not to disrupt the wildlife. On the house there were numerous bat houses hung on the highest peaks, and a little shed with a big sign that read, “WARNING: RABIES QUARANTINE. DO NOT ENTER.”

“Gee… I wonder what gave it away…”

David ignored you and parked the car close to the side entrance of the large two story home. “Hey Boppies…” you said, waking your youngest up… “we’re here.” Thankfully she no longer looked green.

The three of you climbed out of the car, stepping onto the snowy gravel driveway, your boots crunched as you clambered up to the door, the bat box tightly clasped in your hands.

David called the woman to let her know that you had arrived and she came to greet you at the door. She introduced herself as Veronica. She was about your age, with long dirty blonde hair braided in two thick pigtails. She wore a black puffer vest and a thick wool hat. She ushered you in to a little mudroom right inside the door. You were greeted by warmth and the overwhelming smell of animal urine.

“Thank you all so much for bringing the bat here! I know you had quite the drive. So many people kill bats… they’ll step on them or…” she trailed off before adding, “it’s really kind of you to take care of this little guy and to come all this way.”

“Oh geez… I can’t imagine hurting one. We love animals… we just wanted to make sure this little bat was ok.”

You handed her the closed box and she set it down on a little table with an orange red striped print table cloth. The room was filled with empty wire crates, bat stickers and pamphlets…

“I currently have 89 bats here… and a bunch of rats… I love rats… I keep them as pets… “

You could smell all 89 of them and then some. She busied herself telling you all about her rescue while she searched for her bat holding gloves and a small towel. Despite the smell you found her operation very noble and could tell that not only was she extremely knowledgeable in all things ‘local wildlife,’ bats especially… but also very kind… you couldn’t help but be drawn to another bleeding-heart animal lover.

“Alright she said…” finally sitting down in the one chair at the little table, “let’s see what you brought me…”

The three of you gathered just a bit closer as she gently moved the box from the table to her lap and carefully opened the flaps….

“Oh… um…. Well… hmmm…..“

There was a long pause, you all leaned in waiting to hear you had found some sort of long lost subspecies of bat….

“it looks like a dead Brown Bat…” she said.

“Wait???? What???? It’s dead???” You said incredulously.

“Yeah… this poor little guy didn’t make it.” She pulled the little bat out of the box, confirming your suspicion that the bat had probably fallen and hurt its wing. He was very thin.

You looked at David, he looked at you… “WTF?” You mouthed to him… you really had come all this way to bring this poor lady a dead fucking bat.

“I’m sorry you came all this way for….”

“A dead bat?” You offered.

“Yes… well I will bury this little guy. I’m sorry this turned out this way… but ummm…. Let’s end on a good note ok?” And then she turned to your daughter and asked her if she’d like to meet some (live) bats.

Veronica brought out two bat ambassadors to meet your youngest. These bats had been injured in a way that made it impossible for them to ever be released back into the wild. She cradled them in little towels and pat the head of the smallest one.

When it was time to go she thanked you again for being kind enough to bring the (dead) bat up to her… and she offered your daughter some bat stickers as well as a bumper sticker that she gave to everyone who helped to transport (live and in your case…. dead) bats to and from her rehabilitation center. There was a picture of a cartoonish looking bat with large print:

The BAT MOBILE.

**********************************************************************

You walked back to the car holding the bumper sticker in your hand… “Maybe it would have been more fitting if ours had come with a skull and cross bones or a hearse or something like that…”

“I can’t believe we just brought that poor woman a dead fucking bat…”

“You think she thinks we’re psychopaths?”

“I think I can’t believe that we will have driven four hours to bring a bat to Valhalla…”

“I guess he at least got a hero’s send off…” you tried.

“And I got stickers mommy!”

If you’re enjoying my weekly installment of “So We Bought An Old Church” please consider signing up as a paid subsriber. With your subscription you will get a ton of bonus material like pictures, videos, extra (often times hilarious) commentary, current updates, early chapter releases (Friday vs Monday) as well as first looks and dibs on new art. Your subscription helps me to continue creating the quality weekly content that you’ve grown to love by offsetting some of the costs associated with keeping my website up and running… it’s nice to get paid for your work too! For the price of a fancy cup of coffee you get so much more fun… and you are free to cancel at anytime… though I don’t think you’ll want to! Thank you for your support and consideration!

*Veronica holding an endangered bat she’s nursing back to health…

*The second you mention coming into contact with a bat people lose their shit… believe me I know. It’s always out of concern and that’s ok… I asked Veronica (not her real name btw) about bats and rabies… as the two seem about as synonymous as bats and ‘flying rats’. I hear over and over again from people that should you find yourself so much as in the same room as a bat that you need your rabies vaccines… Veronica explained that was not accurate at all; you do NOT need rabies shots for simply coming into contact with a bat.

That train of thought originated from the CDC’s push for vaccinations if a bat was found around a child or baby or incapacitated human that couldn’t verbalize if they had been bitten… The belief there and rightfully so, was that in a circumstance like that, it was best to immediately vaccinate as a precaution. Over time this precaution morphed into the notion that one should get vaccinated simply because they had come into contact with a bat… which was as she explained: wholly unnecessary but still viewed as the standard precaution given by CDC / health departments / etc….

Veronica stressed that in preventing rabies when it came to bats, the best thing to do was to keep your pets up to date on their vaccinations and to always wear thick gloves should you need to handle an injured bat. She also said that while rabies was spread via saliva, that unless you were bitten you would basically have to lick a bunch of fresh bat saliva… I don’t see doing that any time soon.

Veronica it turned out, is quite the bat expert… one of the most knowledgeable (I later found out after doing a little digging on her… lol) bat experts in the entire NorthEast. She is so knowledgeable on all things bats that she actually helps to train and educate Cornell Veterinary students. She works in conjunction with the CDC and also the state of New York. She is properly licensed, highly skilled, and has saved and released thousands of bats over the last 30 years.

We were given protocol, safety guidelines and proper handling techniques before trying to ‘water’ our bat. We also know that removing bats during hibernation is not only cruel but against the law… unless of course the animal is injured, in which case we did what we were told to do per the licensed expert. We would never intentionally harm a bat, or kick it out during hibernation season. We do our best not to disturb them, allow them to stay here during the winter, and in the spring we plan on doing our best to gently coax them outside and into some awesome bat houses we plan on building and installing later this year. If you should find yourself involved in a bat situation, please reach out to your local wildlife rehabilitation center and follow all local guidelines and laws. Maybe one day you can even give us a call at Vanessa’s Bat Belfry Rescue… (just kidding about that last part… kind of).

*******************************************************************

David ‘watering’ the bat…

‘Veronica’s’ driveway… notice the small shed on the right… that is the Rabies Quarantine building…

Above and below… ‘Veronica’ showing us two (live) bats….

Below: this guy looks a little dirty… he’s clean though… just oiled up… apparently their wings can dry out and so she will use a bit of olive oil or coconut oil to moisturize their dry skin…

On the way up to deliver the (dead) bat to ‘Veronica’s’ rehabilitation center, we drove past an absolutely beautiful state park. David, always up for stopping to take scenic pictures asked if we minded if he stopped to get a couple of photos… after being in the car as long as we had been, and my stomach not quite settled from the snaking drive, I was more than happy to get out and stretch my legs.

The park did not disappoint: it was absolutely beautiful. Though many of the park’s trails were closed due to treacherous seasonal conditions, there was still lots to see. There were long icicles that hung down from the weathered walls of the riverbank in large, thick ice blue clusters and a partially frozen waterfall… A steady stream of water flowed just underneath the ice and spilled into a large steely gray pool some twenty feet below the little wooden bridge that connected the two icy embankments. Opposite the little pool the water continued back towards the park entrance where it wound under a large bridge that spanned the roadway and back through the woods where it disappeared behind a barred gate that warned visitors not to continue on the path… it was clear to see why… sheets of ice would have very easily sent people plummeting into the icy river (and probably to Valhalla as well - minus the four hour round trip).

We opted to cross the little footbridge and hike up into the woods along the river up past the falls. Whenever my daughter is present though, we don’t use the term ‘hike,’ we simply refer to the trek as a ‘walk.’ My husband and I love hiking in the woods. Any time we take a trip or sight see we love to lace up and get off the beaten path. I have loved being in the woods since… as long as I can remember.

Before we moved to Florida there was a local park in Connecticut that we would go to on occasion: Sleeping Giant State Park. The main hike through the park brings you up a gravel path. Although it’s slightly steep (if say one is from Florida and doesn’t have any frame of reference for what an actual mountain looks like…. Like… say our three children) it’s not too bad. Honestly I would feel comfortable taking the walk in ballet flats or sandals which I did… because I am known for never wearing appropriate footgear.

On a side note one time my husband and I, during that same trip with our kids up to Connecticut came back by ourselves to take another walk up the mountain. Per usual I was not in reasonable shoes - ballet flats actually and I had the brilliant idea that we should take one of the actual trails - ie real hiking instead of the gravel walk and was shocked that I didn’t plummet to my death on numerous occasions. I actually had my husband take our pictures a few times just in case we were to topple off the mountain so that the search team that found our rotting corpses could see that at least we went out having fun… even if my mangled feet were covered in mud and blisters.

The gravel easy hike… uh… walk is a little over a mile long and taken by many families, hiking enthusiasts, people on their lunch breaks… I even saw a woman pushing a stroller up there one time… and kudos to her because no way in hell would I give that one a go... To be honest I found that far more hardcore than the military looking dude with the camel pack strapped, along with all his gear to his back like he was walking into the Alaskan wilderness… (like my brother in christ… there is a four year old child walking up here in velcro Elmo shoes… maybe take it down a notch?).

While David and I didn’t find that ‘easy gravel trail’ hike too bad… my daughter apparently did. In all fairness she was young, probably five at the time and she was not having it. She swat at little gnats, complained that her feet hurt, that her legs were breaking, that she was too hot, that she wanted to go home, and she made it very clear to us that she absolutely was NOT living her best life on Sleeping Giant Mountain… Her brothers, probably to piss her off, let us know the entire time how much they LOVED hiking and that we should go every day and ‘could we go back up again after we got to the bottom?’ I’ve honestly never seen to this day, so much enthusiasm for any type of physical activity from my boys.

When we finished that hike and made it back down Sleeping Giant our daughter was so incensed by not only her brothers and their declaration of love for all things hiking, but from the entire ordeal that we brought her… all of them… out for ice cream. Ice cream has a way of dulling pain… really any pain for that matter… I’ve seen many a pint through to completion and am quite versed in that respect.

All was right in the world again until later that night. I’m not quite sure what happened because no one else was afflicted and by the next morning she was fine… but right after dinner our daughter was watching TV with her Mema and I when suddenly she turned green… “Mommy… I tink I’m going to puke!”

I practically threw her off the couch and into the bathroom where that poor kid proceeded to get violently ill. She spewed and wretched, and spewed and wretched, then spewed and wretched again… and when she was momentarily finished she curled into a ball in my arms at the base of the porcelain thrown, her little body heaving with each sob… “Mommy…?”

“Yes baby?”

“Did you know… dat dere are two tings dat I hate more dan anyting in dis world?” She had the cutest little voice, and big brown eyes with the longest lashes I’ve ever seen… she looked at me… tears streaming down her face, her forehead sweaty with strands of wet hair plastered to her cheeks and neck…

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” I had said stroking her head and back…

“Da two tings dat I hate da most in da entire world are pu-king… and hiking…”

And so just about three years later when we decided that it would be fun to go hiking at this stunning state park after dropping off the (dead) bat… I caught myself and instead of asking her if she’d like to go for a hike… I asked instead if she’d like to take a walk through the park.

About halfway through the walk she stopped dead when we came to a narrowing of the trail right near a steep embankment… “Hey mommy… I don’t like hiking…”

“Well good because we’re not… we’re just walking so…”

“Yeah… but this feels a lot like hiking…”

“No… it’s just walking…”

“Well what’s the difference…?”

“Hey look… there’s daddy up ahead… let’s go catch up to him…” and that’s how I got out of that question… spoiler alert: I still haven’t come up with a reasonable or plausible answer to her question… apparently she still hates hiking… and I’d venture to say: puking too. Dead bats aren’t one of her favorites either.

Me too kiddo. Me too.

Pictures just don’t do this place justice… look at that waterfall though! It was so cool to see the running water behind the ice. I’d love to come back here in the summer (sans any dead flying mammals).

David walking… not hiking the path…. The park entrance…

So beautiful… view below the falls from the footbridge.

View of the falls from the footbridge….