The Bat

My first encounter with a brown bat was at Long Lake as a kid. It was in the dark of night. I was in a rowboat with a friend guiding the boat. I was watching the water intently with a flashlight, and holding a fish net above my head, ready to swoop down on bullfrogs. Suddenly the net started jerking left and right! I'd caught a bat! Being simultaneously a child such as typically make bad decisions, and naturalist-in-the-making, I took the bat home and put it in a parakeet cage. I planned to feed it meal worms and bugs like I did my western toads. In the morning I called the zoo and said I had a bat, how should I care for it properly. The person on the phone told me, "You should care for it by letting it go." I said I didn't want to let it go. The zookeeper said, "All right then, it needs to be fed its weight in gnats and mosquitoes every night. So go out right now and catch it it's weight in gnats and mosquitos. Hurry! It might starve to death! Then go do it again tomorrow and every day after that." I said, "Couldn't I feed it mealworms?" "Gnats and mosquitos." "That sounds hard. Maybe I should just let it go." "That's a splendid idea. Wait until night and let it go where you found it." That night I let it out of the cage and it was off like a bat, so to speak. Across the lake it flittered, a little dark piece of paper caught in the wind and the moonlight.