First of all, I would like to categorically state that no bats were harmed during the events of last night. I love all animals, but I firmly believe that wildlife should be out in the wild where it belongs, and not hiding behind the microwave in my kitchen.

It started innocently enough. My niece Becky was heating up dinner in the microwave and heard something chirping from behind it. She assumes it’s a cricket and continues fixing dinner.

Fast-forward to later that evening; we’re watching TV in the living when I see what I thought was a large moth out of the corner of my eye. The “moth” then swoops into my line of sight and that’s when I see it’s actually Vlad the Confused. I scream, Becky screams, we both run out onto the front porch while the cats high-tail it into my bedroom. After we calm down a bit (but not entirely) Becky gets her boyfriend Todd on the phone and he rushes over with a.) a large bamboo pole and b.) a cardboard box big enough to hold a chimpanzee. Becky may have exagerated Vlad's size a bit. Now Todd is a great guy, but he’s the type who watches a horror movie from behind his hands going “is it over yet, is over yet?”. Probably not the right person to call in this particular situation, but I do have to give him props for showing up.

Vlad at this point is roosting on my dining room curtains, so we decide on a strategy. After rejecting the first two ideas (catching him in a blanket and/or smacking him with the bamboo pole) we decide to open all of windows and doors and try chasing him out with brooms.

As it turns out, Vlad is very good at swooping around the room but not very good at finding the open windows, so a merry chase ensues. From the dining room to the living room, up the stairs to the second floor landing, back down to the living room where Todd was able to keep him confined by holding (and standing behind) a bed sheet covering the opening to the dining room, leaving Becky and I to do the chasing.

Well, at this point it gets personal. I'm getting all Samuel L. Jackson on the little guy, swinging my broom screaming “get outta my house” and “that’s why they call it bat-minton, sucka!”. Ok, maybe not the “sucka!” part but I was feeling pretty bad-assed at the time and it would’ve worked. After about five minutes of this he swoops down low enough for me to swat him to the ground, where I was able to pin him down with the broom. Just as Todd was slapping the plastic bucket over him one of my neighbors’ stops by to find out what all the commotion was about. Did I mention that I have great neighbors? Anyway, Todd then slips a piece of cardboard under the bucket and carefully carries the whole contraption out to the street. He tips the bucket over; Vlad goes one way, Todd the other, and that was it.

Except for one thing. While we were chasing Vlad around the house with the open doors and windows, all of the neighborhood mosquitoes invited themselves in. I spent the next hour or so chasing winged blood-suckers with a fly swatter, wondering if Vlad wouldn’t mind stopping by again for a late night/early morning snack.

Where is a good bat when you need one?