Thursday, August 20, 2009

It's in the house

Last night, about 11:30, I was asleep, or nearly so, while Rose was reading in "Big Blue," the comfy chair, and suddenly she says (loud enough to wake me up), "There's a bat in the house!"

I leapt from the bed, and we hustled over to the door where Rose slipped out of the room and I tried to figure out what to do next. All the while, the bat is circling, circling in the erratic way bats have. First, I opened the window screen, hoping maybe it would just fly back out. No luck. My next idea was to strip a pillowcase off one of my pillows and run around the room, leaping into the air to try to catch the thing whenever it came close. (Leaping was necessary: our ceilings are high, even on the second floor; Rose certainly heard the sound of me leaping, although there was no japing.) Amazingly, on the dozenth or two-dozenth try, the bat was inside and I quickly scrunched up the opening to keep it there.

Now what? I hesitated, then decided just to take it downstairs, go outside and let it go. No problem, only I had to kind of shake it out of the pillowcase. But then it plopped out and (as I told Rose later) "flew away, just like Dracula."

Back to sleep, until about 5:15, when it all happens again. Rose--out the door, door closed. But this time, I'm much sleepier, and I again moved the screen: but this time, the screen tried to fall out, so I just pulled it into the room. And when the bat came my way, I used the screen to "bat" it right out, for a home run. But no going back to sleep this time.

Amazingly, when Rose looked at the Bat Conservation website, a pillowcase was actually recommended as a capturing method. But so was rabies testing recommended--which we skipped. It never occurred to us not to let it go.

One tends to think of a house as a place to keep things in ("A place for my stuff," as George Carlin put it), but I guess I need the reminder now and then that a house is even better for keeping things out. Let's hope that's the last of the bats.


Rosemary said...

Actually, I believe what I said (shrieked) was "Jesus Christ, there's a bat in here!" while jumping up and pulling my bathrobe over my head and running for the door. I'm such a freakin' *girl* sometimes. Embarrasing.

And yes, it was quite amusing to hear Tom leaping about behind the closed door. Without the visual, I could've easily mistaken it for our big cat, Stella, thumping around like she does when she jumps after something. Only about ten times louder. And a lot less fun (though still fun-*ny*!).

Michael said...

Actually, Rose, your mention of Dear Mild Jesus was wholly appropriate, in case it was in fact Dracula, though I suspect that an actual crucifix and/or wooden stake would have been even better.

Rosemary said...

Mike, touche. I'll be sure to load up on the more potent supplies, though, should we have another visitor (which I sincerely hope won't happen!).

Anonymous said...

Docents like to tell the story of the bat in the Guv's Rez in the early days of the Celeste era. (The house had been unoccupied and neglected during the previous administration. A great variety of critters had moved in.) Alerted to the bat soaring around, D.C. armed himself with the nearest weapon--a tennis racket--and chased the bat upstairs and down. We never learned it all ended. Bet the guv did some leaping toward high ceilings too.

Historiann said...

Hey--why aren't your damn cats earning their keep? Bats (like other rodents) in the house are the one arena in which cats can distinguish themselves.

We've had mice--and amazingly, even the mama's boy/dumba$$ cat manages to catch them. (The black cat is a natural born killer when it comes to the local bird population, and this summer she even took down a nearly full-size RABBIT and deposited it on the back step. We've seen an occasional decapitated baby bunny or baby squirrel, but the rabbit was one step beyond.

Anyway, yes: houses establish boundaries.