She
spent the first ten years of her life in a New York apartment,
in a dirty, bare, wooden-frame cage with a chicken wire ceiling.
The young bat shared this cage with her only roostmate, her
mother. The cage held no enrichment, no place to hide from the
daylight, and nowhere to sleep comfortably. Then, as fate would
have it, the person who kept the mother and daughter bats in
these conditions died, and their lives finally changed.
In January of 2000, Diane Nickerson, Director of Mercer County
Wildlife Center, in Titusville, NJ received the call about the
bats after wildlife officials found numerous other exotic pets
in the house of the man who had passed away.
Photo Courtesy
of Diane Nickerson
Their conditions improved at the center, and they
were lovingly cared for by a staff of volunteers. For the next
four years the bats served as educational ambassadors for their
kind, educating hundreds of people about the wonderful world of
bats through programs given by the center. Then, in a tragic
turn of events, a rat made its way into the center one night and
chewed into the cage that the mother and daughter bats shared.
The rat attacked and subsequently devoured the mother bat,
sparing the daughter. The daughter was then transferred
into a bird cage for safety, and moved to a different building.
Because she now had no roostmate, the staff provided her with a
stuffed Stella Luna bat doll with which she cuddled. She
continued to do public presentations for the next year. Then, in
May of 2006 she injured and broke her leg while in the bird
cage. After that, her health began to rapidly deteriorate. Again, fate stepped in when Leslie
Sturges, BWS Director of Education, met Diane Nickerson at a
wildlife conference in New York, where Leslie presented on bats.
When Diane approached Leslie about placing the daughter bat with
us, the answer was, of course, a resounding yes.
In November of 2006, the daughter
bat-now 16 years old-arrived lying in a box padded with baby
blankets. When the lid opened she looked up in fright with
watery, old eyes that spoke of her past horrors. Her tiny body
had a yellowish tint, indicating she had the beginning stages of
liver disease. She was also stunted, perhaps from being deprived
of adequate nutrition during the first 10 years of her life. Her
fur was sparse and patchy, and the foot of one leg - the one
that had been broken - pointed backwards in the direction it had
healed. The knee in the opposite leg appeared to be swollen with
arthritis, perhaps from the stress of only having one good leg
with which to hang. The trip had taken its toll on her frail
body, and at first we feared she might not survive. But
this tiny girl had fortitude; she fought her way back with all
her might. We decided to call her Stella, both for the doll that
helped her through her lonely period, and because of the popular
book StellaLuna, a story about a mother and daughter fruit
bat who become separated.
Unable to hang for the first few days, we placed Stella in a
padded pouch that rested inside a small mesh enclosure until she
was well enough to join the other bats in the flight cage.
We
started her on liver medication, and her coloring, along with
her energy, vastly improved. Arthritis medicine helped her
painful, swollen knee, and before long her eyes were clear and
bright, and she could once again hang upside-down. As Stella's
health progressed, she was slowly moved into the flight cage,
gradually spending more and more time until she was strong
enough to remain there throughout the night. We created custom
'Stella-sized' hammocks in select locations in the flight cage,
so she could rest her diminutive body and crippled legs during
the process.
Today, Stella is barely recognizable. She is now bright-eyed,
inquisitive and full of life. Stella is now happily
maneuvering all over the entire cage - hanging with the
Egyptians, intermingling with the Jamaicans and even traveling
all the way over to the flying fox habitat to nuzzle with the
gentle giants.
She has a favorite toy as well, a miniature bird mirror with
curly-cues around the frame. During Stella's final years, we
will try our best to erase her bad memories as well as the
horrific sorrow she must have endured during the tragic loss of
her mother. We will fill her nights with happiness, good health,
plentiful foods, brightly colored toys, and dozens of warm and
cuddly bat friends - because that is how fate should have it.
NOTE: To sponsor
Stella through the Adopt Me! button, please enter the appropriate
amount (see list below). If the Adopt-a-Bat is a gift or a school
sponsorship, please remember to include the name you want listed
on the certificate.
New members & gift
adoptions - $35.00
International new members & gift adoptions - $38.00
Existing members & school/class adoptions - $25.00
Please allow up to 10 days for delivery of your sponsorship package. RUSH orders are
available (at no extra handling charge) by calling 940-325-3404 (please leave a message;
calls are returned as promptly as possible).
Please see our privacy policy
on safeguarding your information.
She
spent the first ten years of her life in a New York apartment,
in a dirty, bare, wooden-frame cage with a chicken wire ceiling.
The young bat shared this cage with her only roostmate, her
mother. The cage held no enrichment, no place to hide from the
daylight, and nowhere to sleep comfortably. Then, as fate would
have it, the person who kept the mother and daughter bats in
these conditions died, and their lives finally changed. 
In November of 2006, the daughter
bat-now 16 years old-arrived lying in a box padded with baby
blankets. When the lid opened she looked up in fright with
watery, old eyes that spoke of her past horrors. Her tiny body
had a yellowish tint, indicating she had the beginning stages of
liver disease. She was also stunted, perhaps from being deprived
of adequate nutrition during the first 10 years of her life. Her
fur was sparse and patchy, and the foot of one leg - the one
that had been broken - pointed backwards in the direction it had
healed. The knee in the opposite leg appeared to be swollen with
arthritis, perhaps from the stress of only having one good leg
with which to hang. The trip had taken its toll on her frail
body, and at first we feared she might not survive. But
this tiny girl had fortitude; she fought her way back with all
her might. We decided to call her Stella, both for the doll that
helped her through her lonely period, and because of the popular
book StellaLuna, a story about a mother and daughter fruit
bat who become separated.
Unable to hang for the first few days, we placed Stella in a
padded pouch that rested inside a small mesh enclosure until she
was well enough to join the other bats in the flight cage.
We
started her on liver medication, and her coloring, along with
her energy, vastly improved. Arthritis medicine helped her
painful, swollen knee, and before long her eyes were clear and
bright, and she could once again hang upside-down. As Stella's
health progressed, she was slowly moved into the flight cage,
gradually spending more and more time until she was strong
enough to remain there throughout the night. We created custom
'Stella-sized' hammocks in select locations in the flight cage,
so she could rest her diminutive body and crippled legs during
the process.