Not this bat, actually. The one pictured above was shot on Nevis, behind a shutter. He was quite tame and both S and I took turns petting him. I tested his civility, of course, since I’m immune to rabies; even though they have no documented cases of rabies on Nevis, S still preferred me to test the toothy mammals, spastic stray dogs and sedate bats, first. But I digress. The not quite rabid bat I’m thinking of was here in Lancaster. Somewhere, on some twinkling flash card (is this the right term?), buried in my desk, are pictures of a little brown bat, foaming, foaming, at the mouth. How I wonder where that’s at. If I find these pictures, or if another bat flutters onto the stucco of our front porch so I can recreate the scene, I’ll have something to show you. Something shocking, straight out of a horror picture when movies were drive-in, not CGI.
To be continued with additional blather…
Goat Waters 