She even cussed the whole time she ate. And third, she bit. She bit my glove. A lot. And now, as of late November as I'm writing this, she's biting even more, and she's decidedly un-fun to handle. She's about got me bamboozled. She's a real pill. But she doesn't self-feed, so she needs to be handled just long enough to be fed a few worms, then put away again.
So I named her Drusilla, which matches her witchy personality well. And I decided that she would spend as much of her winter as possible in the cold garage, hibernating between towels in a covered tank.
Don't get me wrong, I'd love to let her go. But since Halloween there has not been a single night above 50 degrees, and bats can't summon the energy to fly until it's consistently 55 and above at night. So releasing a young bat on a cold night when it couldn't fly to find a suitable roost would be contraindicated.