I had one thing on my mind that morning: to write my article early in the day for a change. Spending the evening in my office writing when I should have written much earlier wasn’t the way I wanted this day to end. I expected to have a calm morning and afternoon working at the computer. Murder and mayhem were the last things on my mind.

Sitting down at the desk, I checked a note pad on my desk for writing topics. The two white and black feline siblings with whom I share my home jumped onto my lap. Sadie licked my hand and almost touched her nose to mine. Jerry decided that he didn’t want to share my lap, so he pushed Sadie aside. His unspoken message was clear. Sadie jumped down and Jerry quickly positioned himself on my left arm and shoulder. I looked down at the cat and informed him, “Jerry, you know I won’t be able to type with you there.”

I noticed two small dark-colored splatters on the screen when I opened my computer’s Word program. Although small, the spots looked like splashes. I took a Kleenex and wet it with glass cleaner and what I wiped off turned the Kleenex red. Startled; I suddenly leaned forward. Jerry slid off my shoulder and landed on the floor. “That looks like blood! Where in the world did it come from?”

Finding random splashes of blood in my office was unnerving. I frantically pondered, “Whose blood was it? How did it happen to be shed?” Only one thing was certain, the blood wasn’t mine! I would have noticed if I had sprung a leak and unexpectedly began spurting blood! I didn’t see any more drops of blood, so I got down to work on my next article.

An hour or two later, I noticed a small, dark splash of dried blood on one of the papers on the desk. I couldn’t work with this unsolved mystery hanging over my head. Feeling unsettled, I left the office to take a break. When I returned after lunch I discovered another splash of blood on the doorway woodwork. Using a damp cloth, I worked my way around the office and entryway to find and wash away several more small, dried splashes of blood. In one spot on a wall near the baseboard, I found a place that looked like something bloody had smashed against it.

As I inspected the walls of the entryway, I turned toward the basement stairwell and discovered a dead bat on the floor! The poor little beastie looked like it had been badly injured before dying. Sadie and Jerry returned to the scene of their crime and sniffed the dead body, as if to brag, “We did this. Aren’t we good kitties?” Their bright, guileless eyes stared curiously at me.

With a sickening certainty, I knew what had happened the night before. The wee bat had managed to find his way into my house. Instead of finding a warm, safe shelter, it came up against my two domesticated rodent-killing, miniature saber tooth tigers.

The bat flew up the basement stairway. Seeing it flying though the entryway, one of the cats leapt into the air and caught it. The bat managed to get away but was badly injured. As it flapped its wings and flew repeatedly around the office and entryway, small amounts of its blood sprinkled on everything. The cats made other leaps to catch the bat. One leap must have sent the bat crashing against the wall.

When I first brought Sadie and Jerry home from the shelter, I decided to never let them spend time outdoors. It was too dangerous for them, and dangerous for the local bird population. Because of their house confinement, I thought Sadie and Jerry wouldn’t need to get rabies shots. Seeing how they regularly catch mice and bats in my house, that means the outdoors has managed to come inside! I made an appointment for them to get their shots.

I finished my writing that day with the cats each taking turns in my lap. I looked closely at their paws and fur, knowing what murderous play they had had during the night. Unlike the entryway, walls, woodwork and desk in my office, they were spotlessly clean.