A Bat In My Shack

Today was a very nice day. I wished I could’ve gotten over to my mom and dad’s earlier, because I would’ve spent hours sitting in the shack, reading and waiting for deer. But, as it happens, I didn’t get over there until after 4  There wasn’t much time left to hunt, but I went out anyway, just to see what happens.

A little after 5, I was reading Chapter 23 of Joe Hill’s Horns and I became aware of something crawling up my leg. I lifted my leg to see what it was, glimpsed a brownish mass on my ankle… just before it took flight.

“Fucking SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!!!””

If there were deer approaching my bait, they bolted when I yelled. Probably every hunter for a couple square miles wants to kick my ass right about now.

I sat there for several minutes muttering “holy shit” over and over again. I couldn’t see the bat, but it flew toward the door. For all I knew, it was waiting in the shadows by the hook I needed to lift to open the door.

Eventually I worked up the nerve to reach over, smack the hook up and shove the door wide open. I took my time climbing out, but I kept an eye on where I put my hands until I was on the ground.

Have I mentioned that I’m terrified of bats? I can deal with mice and rats. But bats, uh uh..

Some hunters have names for their hunting shacks and now I know what to name mine. From this day on, my hunting shack shall be called The Bat Shack.

I need to get Batman’s logo, to display on one of the walls. Though, at the moment, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get into my shack again.

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