Saga of a woman old enough to know better who lets her life be governed by the ridiculous hobby of breeding and showing dogs, musing on life, the twenty first century, Cameron and his mini-me, and the occasional sheep.

Thursday, May 18, 2017


I had let the dogs out, except for Solitaire who is in season and has her heart set on Shelby the Chin, and was having a leisurely breakfast when I noticed the unpleasant sensation of something light and delicate slowly climbing up my leg.


I looked down.


A bat.  A small unhappy bat, trying to find a high point from which to take off... presumably she was thinking of my head.


Bats in the house are not so uncommon.  We have a lot of pipistrelles here, and if windows are open, they do get in.  Normally they circle the light for a bit (dog hysteria) and then settle on the wall.  I catch them in a towel, and they struggle and buzz (no idea how they do that) and try hard to bite (their mouths are full of needles).


But have no idea how this one ended up wandering about my floor.


Anyway, I took her outside.  Strong immediate interest from the dogs – small, leathery, furry, crunchy!     -  what`s not to like!


She is now out in the lane, and I hope she finds a take-off point before anything else finds her.

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