Dreams vs. Reality

I dreamt of bats all night.

Flying; crawling; grinning plastic bats hanging from the basement ceiling. Real bats hanging amongst the garlands of fakes.

Took my cat, Freya, to the vet two nights ago and she couldn’t get her rabies vaccine because she’s immunocompromised. How’s that for a cat? Turns out she’s probably got eosinophilic granuloma complex – skin rash (do not look at pictures of this on the internet) – and irritable bowel disease – not to be confused with IBS. Sheesh. Which means that she can’t get a vaccine that might make her sick even if she didn’t have skin and poo problems.

This wouldn’t be an issue at all if I weren’t going to be moving into a house in November that had resident bats in the basement. I like bats, and was considering living peacefully with them. The bats would eat the spiders and the cat would keep the bats in line, most likely teaching them a lesson if they dared up into living quarters. Sad only for multi-legged pesties.

The nice man at the Organization for Bat Conservation in Bloomfield Hills, MI. gently suggested I evict them. But I wasn’t convinced. Spider-free house, I kept thinking. No millipedes. That’s something.

But immunocompromised cat takes the cake and makes the difference. Out go the bats. Humanely, those poor things.