Jesse's adventure

Dear Friends,
I am back in my home, well, half of it. My computer is the only thing in the basement, just because we can't live without it. It will be a while before life is normal again. My son, Jesse, sent me an e-mail about this wild adventure, and I thought you would enjoy it, too...

You know it's been an exciting day when you can compare it to an episode of The Office. Here it goes: I was sitting up on the 2^nd floor of the Community building showing a resident more art techniques (actually the same techniques), and he saw what he thought was a bird over by the stairs. I looked and, with my vast knowledge of the animal kingdom, realized that it was not a bird. Upon closer inspection, I instantly realized that the erratic flight patterns were that of a bat (in the order Chiroptera).

We immediately coerced it into the hallway on the East side of the 2^nd floor of the CB and promptly shut the door. We then searched everywhere for some kind of net we could use to catch the bat. After being thwarted in our search, we settled on a trash bag. I geared up with some heavy gloves and a ninja outfit (well, I imagined the outfit anyway) and hurried up to the hallway. I was brilliant (if I do say so myself). If you want an idea of how heroic I was, watch The Office Season 3, the episode called "Business School," and multiply Dwight by 20. That's me.

Actually, I went in the hall and couldn't find the bat. I kept expecting it to fly out of nowhere and latch onto my face (which would have been pretty funny to an onlooker, but I imagine I would have been less than thrilled). Luckily, that did not happen. I looked for about five minutes until, fearing defeat; I started to head back to the hallway door. That's when it happened. I looked down slowly (like they do in those horror movies when something really bad –like a bat latching onto somebody's face- is about to happen) and there it was. I saw the hate in its eyes (even though it probably couldn't see me because most bats are blind) and the thirst for blood emanating from its teeth. Putting all my years of training to work, I gently placed the trash bag over it and nudged it onto the side of the bag until I could safely close it. I then danced around like a little girl and let out a blood-curdling scream of triumph. Or maybe it was a dance of triumph and a girly scream. Well, whatever it was, I had won. I stood supreme. We eventually let it go outside as a sign of good sportsmanship.

And THAT is why I think the mascot should have something to do with bats.

-Jesse R

PS: If anybody is missing a pet bat, I don't know where it is.