Bats in My Glen Burnie Apartment?

I'm not exactly a "city girl," being that I grew up in the Virginia suburbs of D.C. But other than dogs, cats and the occasional fish, I don't do well with random animals in or around my living space.

That said, I almost lost my mind late last Tuesday night as I packed for my trip to New Orleans when I heard scratching and squeaking coming from the unfinished part of the ceiling in my basement apartment.

"A mouse?!" I thought.

I could see what looked like little feet scrambling and trying desperately to keep itself from falling into my apartment.

At least we were on the same page—neither of us wanted it to be in my apartment.

Feeling big and bad, I grabbed a metal pole and kept my eye on the area of the ceiling where I heard the noise. If a rodent fell into my apartment, I was going to smash it.

As the time passed with me standing there with my metal pole and I prayed the animal would be able to make it back into the ceiling, I realized I didn't actually know what it was.

I remembered my neighbor telling me about a snake she killed by her front door. I couldn't even pretend I was big and bad enough to battle a snake. (And if we're being honest, I'm not smashing anything.)

It was almost midnight, but I had to find someone who could help me. Realizing I live very near a fire station, I decided to play damsel-in-distress and ask for help.

I changed out of my pajamas and prepared to head to the station. Then ...

THUD.

The animal fell from the ceiling onto a box that was sitting on top of my dresser.

Once I stopped screaming, I still couldn't tell what it was. I snapped a quick picture, put on my shoes and ran out the door to find my neighbors sitting outside.

"Um, how are you with rodent-type things? Because I think a mouse or something just fell through my ceiling into my apartment," I said.

"Oh, it's probably a bat," my neighbor shrugged. "I saw like 20 flying out of the chimney the other day."

A WHAT?!

She and her friend could sense I was near a nervous breakdown and graciously accepted my request for them to get the bat the heck out of my house!

A plastic bowl and a paper plate later, what was finally confirmed to be a baby bat was scooped out of my apartment.

"Do you want this bowl back," my neighbor's friend asked.

"I do not," I said.

I left a hysterical message on my landlord's phone (yes, it was midnight), closed the door to room with the unfinished ceiling—leaving the light on because movies tell me that bats and vampires don't like the light—finished packing and attempted to sleep for a few hours so I could make my 6 a.m. flight.

Thankfully I have an amazing landlord who completely patched up my ceiling and sealed off every crevice that could allow anything living into my apartment—all before I returned from my trip.

Does this often happen in Glen Burnie? Or anywhere? Or am I just the lucky one?

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