A Tribute to Kelly the Bat

I was finishing up breakfast when I heard Erik from outside yelling, 'There is a bat out here!' I was surprised, because I didn't think bats lived near this area. I quickly ran outside and Erik led me to the bat. He was about four inches tall and lying on the rocky road. I realized immediately that this bat was injured, so I called for my mom and we edged the bat onto a piece of paper using a stick. After moving the baby bat to a more shady area, I decided to remember this bat forever as Kelly.

In the process of moving Kelly, we realized that he was bleeding a lot. He had a gash on the middle of his back, and one of the bones in his wing was broken and crooked. A bunch of birds had attacked him. It was then that I realized that I could not save Kelly. He was far beyond our help. I felt my spirits drop. I was weighed down. We left him there in the shade as we prepared for a bat-burial.  When I came back a few minutes later, I saw that Kelly had pushed himself off of the paper and was trying to move himself in a different direction. I suddenly had hope. Maybe he could heal. He certainly was gaining strength!

We started trying to feed him fruit, and we used a shell to pour water into his open mouth. He was so cute. We started laughing instead of being sad. We then decided, that if he had enough energy to move around, we could move him to our porch and tend him there. We could feed and take care of him until he was healed. As we were transferring him, he stopped moving. He went rigid.
We took him into the backyard and watched him laying there. He was still breathing, but his eyes were closed and he didn't move. I felt so empty and sad inside when I realized that  Kelly would not make it. We remembered that he still had bad wounds, and that his twisted bone could never heal.  He clung to a stick, and stayed in that position. I was able to draw a picture of him before ants swarmed his body.

  We went back to check on him a few times over the coming hours, and realized each time that he was still alive. At this point I panicked. I didn't know what to do. He had been suffering so long already!  I cried, seeing the slow, agonizing death that Kelly was enduring. I started freaking out as I realized that Kelly had a lot more wounds then I originally perceived.

We called a family meeting on the matter, and were met with two possible solutions: to leave him there to slowly be killed by the ants and his wounds, or to put him out of his misery right there and then. We discussed our opinions on both, and even though we did not like it at all, we knew that putting him out of his misery was the most humane thing to do. We all were deeply saddened by the idea. We did not want to hurt him. But after suffering for so long, we would only be helping him.
Even though I knew it was best for Kelly, I despised the idea. Every part of me fought against it. I had to keep telling myself: it's okay. We are doing this for Kelly. This is the best thing we can do for him.

My dad put poor little Kelly out of his misery right after the meeting. We all buried him together and placed a rock over his grave (inscribed by Amelia). We each shared a few words of mourning and comfort.

We love you Kelly. You were so cute and fluffy. You were a fighter even after those birds attacked you. You made us so happy, and we truly miss you. We hope you are happy and whole now. I hope I always remember you, Kelly.