In the words of Taylor Swift, today was a fairy tale. Amy and I were out for a mid-morning stroll when we spotted a little ball of fur on the pavement, right in the middle of the busy downtown business core. Upon closer inspection we realized it was a little bat, and after I got over my heart exploding from the shock of seeing something like this laying inches away from my face...I instantly fell in love. His little mouth quivered as he attempted to lift his head off the ground, and I assumed he fell out of something (hopefully not the roof of my sky-rise) and was probably disoriented from being stuck in the middle of the street in broad daylight. I knew we had to get him somewhere dark and safe, and luckily my fellow government employees have a soft spot for littering, so I was able to locate a nearby paper cup to scoop him up. The cup was conveniently left behind with lid still on, so I took it off, nudged him in there and covered him lightly with it. As I carried him towards a little tree, his wing suddenly expanded out of the mouth piece torn off by the original owner of the cup. I turned to Amy and mouthed a horrified scream (so he wouldn't be offended) clenching my hand into a fist to let my fear-driven adrenaline subside. I'm not ashamed to admit I considered the possibility of this thing turning into Batman and unfolding out of the cup to attack my face- well like an evil Batman, anyway. When I finally made it to the tree (I was walking very slowly so as not to anger Evil Batman) I propped the lid open to find basically the cutest thing I have ever seen in my life. Here it is:
The wonderful thing about my building is that it boasts beautifully manicured flower beds. The drawback is that I looked absolutely insane on my knees in my silk pants, climbing through these flower beds and into a tree. I noticed a few people gathering around us, some probably with their fingers on their phone emergency buttons, and I can't blame them.
Luckily, the tree provided ample shade, and the little bat (whom we named Albert) was left alone for the majority of the time- there were some shit-disturbing pigeons, and a nosy squirrel, but we won't open up that can of worms. Unluckily, in an effort to help him, I spent some time researching bat care on Wikipedia. I say unluckily because there's a good chance Albert has rabies, and that consequently I do as well. I haven't started feeling foamy yet, but Amy and I will be monitoring each other's symptoms for the next few days. I hope we didn't make a terrible mistake saving Albert, but then there's also the chance that he'll remember our good deed and once he regains his strength (and morphs into a giant angry beast) we'll be homies. He'll be all "We cool, bitches" and we'll be all "You know it" and he'll resume biting everyone else's necks while we watch and nod. Anyway, monster or not, I figured Albert would get thirsty when he woke up so I went in the kitchen and sliced a foam cup in half with a knife, much to the amusement of the co-workers dining at that very moment. "It's for a bat" I told them. I filled it with water, and brought it down, but decided that was where I drew the line. Apparently bats eat worms and flies, but I just can't bring myself to kill something like that. There's also a chance he's vegetarian so that would be a waste.
I checked on Albert over the lunch break, over a few more afternoon breaks, and on my way home from work. I couldn't make out his entire body through the tree branches, but I could always spot his little feet clinging to the edge of the cup. It was all I needed to know that, super-villain or not, there's a little heart beating just like mine, potentially evil but not at all impervious to love.