I raced down and collected the bat. She was a young adult freetail, covered in milk from the feeding attept. "Oh isn't that cute!" said the pepole in the caravan as the bat growled. "It's purring. Can we keep it as a pet?"
If you heard a dog making that noise you'd be over the fence into next door's yard, and over then next 3 fences after that for safety. The bat was absolutely pissed off. Once home I shoved her in the tent and left her to calm down.
Boop is under observation, but I think I'll let her go in a couple of days. There doesn't seem anything wrong with her.
Ace has been marked for release for a week but I haven't been able to get her to Wellington. Last night she was very noisy in the tent, flapping and squeaking a lot. I didn't think anything of it.
This afternoon I checked her out, the first time I'd handled her in a week. She seemed a bit agitated but I put that down to her minimal handling.
Then a pair of tiny black legs attached to a tiny pink bum poked out from under a wing. I stared. A tiny wing poked out.
Bloody hell! A PUP!
I placed Ace back into the tent, and watched as she dragged herself into the folded cloth hanging from the roof. The pup was dragged along the floor behind her. There was no WAY it was going to let go of the teat.
I rang the Wellington police station and told the senior sergeant what had happened. "Outstanding!" was his reply.
Then I rang HT and asked what I could do. She told me something I hated to hear. "You're a grandfather!" Then she said that she had no idea since there was no 'born in captivity' provision in the injury classification.
Looks like I have to go to Wellington myself. This bat HAS to go.