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.