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The Bone Palace
Draft 1.0
431 / 462 pages. 93% done!
Goodnight, book. Sleep well. I'll likely kill you in the morning.
Today's exciting dayjob adventure was bat relocation. A lost little Mexican free-tailed ended up in the store, and was found sleeping upside down in the kids' section. (Most adorable thing ever, of which I sadly did not get pictures.) So a coworker and I gloved up and retrieved him. As we hit the doors, I found myself saying "But it's cold and rainy and we can't just dump him in the parking lot!"
This is how our chiropteran friend ended up in a box in my car. I called a coworker's friend who works with bat conservation and left a message, and tried to find a vet on my lunch break for advice. The vet, unsurprisingly, gave me the party line of Don't touch the bat. Have nothing to do with the bat. I, unsurprisingly, ignored this. (No, I did not touch the bat ungloved, or snuggle the bat, or kiss the bat. This used up all my willpower for the next month. So! Adorable!)
After that came some frustration involving the bat rescue website being down, and me not wanting to call animal control. Then I remembered![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
batwrangler, who answered her phone and gave me sage advice. My coworker's friend called back a bit later, and gave me the same sage advice. So after work I took Mr. (or Ms., as the case may be) Stellaluna to one of the bat bridges in town (where many of his relatives were still hanging out, having decided not to migrate) and let him go. He was still a little dazed when last I saw him, but crawling around and starting to perk up. Hopefully the trauma of being manhandled by giant monsters will wear off soon.
I took some bad cellphone pictures forbatwrangler, but you have to wait till tomorrow for them. Or Wednesday, depending on how long tomorrow's deathmarch runs.
I need a giant bat to sit on my shoulder while I type. That would be soothing.
Draft 1.0
Goodnight, book. Sleep well. I'll likely kill you in the morning.
Today's exciting dayjob adventure was bat relocation. A lost little Mexican free-tailed ended up in the store, and was found sleeping upside down in the kids' section. (Most adorable thing ever, of which I sadly did not get pictures.) So a coworker and I gloved up and retrieved him. As we hit the doors, I found myself saying "But it's cold and rainy and we can't just dump him in the parking lot!"
This is how our chiropteran friend ended up in a box in my car. I called a coworker's friend who works with bat conservation and left a message, and tried to find a vet on my lunch break for advice. The vet, unsurprisingly, gave me the party line of Don't touch the bat. Have nothing to do with the bat. I, unsurprisingly, ignored this. (No, I did not touch the bat ungloved, or snuggle the bat, or kiss the bat. This used up all my willpower for the next month. So! Adorable!)
After that came some frustration involving the bat rescue website being down, and me not wanting to call animal control. Then I remembered
batwrangler, who answered her phone and gave me sage advice. My coworker's friend called back a bit later, and gave me the same sage advice. So after work I took Mr. (or Ms., as the case may be) Stellaluna to one of the bat bridges in town (where many of his relatives were still hanging out, having decided not to migrate) and let him go. He was still a little dazed when last I saw him, but crawling around and starting to perk up. Hopefully the trauma of being manhandled by giant monsters will wear off soon.I took some bad cellphone pictures for
batwrangler, but you have to wait till tomorrow for them. Or Wednesday, depending on how long tomorrow's deathmarch runs.I need a giant bat to sit on my shoulder while I type. That would be soothing.
