Going batty
We have bats in our barn. This is no big deal; we've had them since we moved in. They eat insects and make it possible to actually sit outside, so we're comfortable with having bats in the barn.
However, every few years, one gets inside the house, and we're not comfortable with having bats in our basement. Thursday was one of those times. Around 7 or 8pm, John asked me to come corral the cats because there were two bats flying around downstairs.
It's probably worth noting that I have a serious issue with Things That Fly At Me. I'm not even comfortable when someone lets their pet bird out of the cage when I'm around. When one of our roommates had a pet cockatiel, the bird came out of their bedroom exactly once--it flew towards me, and was banned from the main house forever after.
So my contribution to the bat eviction was to throw the cats upstairs, shut the basement door, and then sit on the stairs in front of it because the basement door doesn't latch well enough to keep out a few determined balls of fur looking to score a new toy. However, I did say that I saw a bat go back into the pantry instead of out the door. John was certain that two bats had flown out the door as he had it open, and that the problem was thus taken care of. I made him search the pantry again anyway, and we had a tiff over whether or not there was still a bat in the house. The search turned up nothing, and I allowed myself to be convinced that my hiding on the staircase meant that I had not seen the final bat leave, and we were truly bat-free.
A little after midnight, as I was sitting on the couch finishing up what I was doing and shutting down my laptop, the third bat flew upstairs and into the family room.
A few months ago during the live game, I made it a point to find someone and tell them I would need them to scream at a pre-determined point, because I am terrible at screaming. I have always maintained that I simply do not know how to scream, since I don't scare easily and the closest I ever come is a gasp of surprise when I'm startled. But when the bat flew towards me, I learned Basic Screaming really quick, and I got a lot of practice at it.
Even so, I managed to hold myself together long enough to open the patio door so that the bat had a way out. Since the exit to the room towards the rest of the house is in the opposite direction from the patio door, this means the bat (flying around frantically) and I (running around frantically) crossed paths a few more times. The second scream had Chris out of bed and asking what was going on. Two cats were tossed into his bedroom with Marina.
The bat only went near the door once, and instead of flying out of it, he perched on the curtains next to it for a minute, then flew back into the middle of the room. That was pretty much the last straw for me, and all I really remember was standing in the hallway watching it and screaming every time it came near the hallway entrance. John finally emerged from upstairs, and I grabbed a third cat and went up to hide in our bedroom. (The fourth cat was already up there, sleeping on our bed).
During the time that Chris and John were coming up with a plan to evict the bat, the bat found someplace to hide. After a half hour of searching, John came upstairs. I made him go down and look for the bat three more times, but eventually the compromise was that we would deal with the bat in the morning, and in the meantime we'd close off every possible entrance to our bedroom. I still slept poorly, convinced that every brush (even of my own hair) was a bat wing.
By Friday morning the bat had calmed down and was sleeping attached to the living room ceiling. It took less than 5 minutes for it to be convinced to head towards the open front door. However, I was still freaked out. Since I had taken Friday off to work on projects at home, I made John stay home as well, in case we'd missed another bat. Then I went outside and worked on the gardens. My intent was to weed for an hour or two, then swim and work on some coding. But I felt more comfortable outside than inside (it felt like there was less nature outside than inside the house). So three hours later, I finished weeding and mulching both garden beds by the back patio, and my sweat had washed some of my sunscreen into my eyes. It wasn't horribly painful, but it did mean that staring at a monitor was right out.
Today I am achy all over, because three hours of kneeling on concrete and pulling out weeds is too much. But there has been no further bat activity in the house, so hopefully things can go back to what passes for normal around here.
However, every few years, one gets inside the house, and we're not comfortable with having bats in our basement. Thursday was one of those times. Around 7 or 8pm, John asked me to come corral the cats because there were two bats flying around downstairs.
It's probably worth noting that I have a serious issue with Things That Fly At Me. I'm not even comfortable when someone lets their pet bird out of the cage when I'm around. When one of our roommates had a pet cockatiel, the bird came out of their bedroom exactly once--it flew towards me, and was banned from the main house forever after.
So my contribution to the bat eviction was to throw the cats upstairs, shut the basement door, and then sit on the stairs in front of it because the basement door doesn't latch well enough to keep out a few determined balls of fur looking to score a new toy. However, I did say that I saw a bat go back into the pantry instead of out the door. John was certain that two bats had flown out the door as he had it open, and that the problem was thus taken care of. I made him search the pantry again anyway, and we had a tiff over whether or not there was still a bat in the house. The search turned up nothing, and I allowed myself to be convinced that my hiding on the staircase meant that I had not seen the final bat leave, and we were truly bat-free.
A little after midnight, as I was sitting on the couch finishing up what I was doing and shutting down my laptop, the third bat flew upstairs and into the family room.
A few months ago during the live game, I made it a point to find someone and tell them I would need them to scream at a pre-determined point, because I am terrible at screaming. I have always maintained that I simply do not know how to scream, since I don't scare easily and the closest I ever come is a gasp of surprise when I'm startled. But when the bat flew towards me, I learned Basic Screaming really quick, and I got a lot of practice at it.
Even so, I managed to hold myself together long enough to open the patio door so that the bat had a way out. Since the exit to the room towards the rest of the house is in the opposite direction from the patio door, this means the bat (flying around frantically) and I (running around frantically) crossed paths a few more times. The second scream had Chris out of bed and asking what was going on. Two cats were tossed into his bedroom with Marina.
The bat only went near the door once, and instead of flying out of it, he perched on the curtains next to it for a minute, then flew back into the middle of the room. That was pretty much the last straw for me, and all I really remember was standing in the hallway watching it and screaming every time it came near the hallway entrance. John finally emerged from upstairs, and I grabbed a third cat and went up to hide in our bedroom. (The fourth cat was already up there, sleeping on our bed).
During the time that Chris and John were coming up with a plan to evict the bat, the bat found someplace to hide. After a half hour of searching, John came upstairs. I made him go down and look for the bat three more times, but eventually the compromise was that we would deal with the bat in the morning, and in the meantime we'd close off every possible entrance to our bedroom. I still slept poorly, convinced that every brush (even of my own hair) was a bat wing.
By Friday morning the bat had calmed down and was sleeping attached to the living room ceiling. It took less than 5 minutes for it to be convinced to head towards the open front door. However, I was still freaked out. Since I had taken Friday off to work on projects at home, I made John stay home as well, in case we'd missed another bat. Then I went outside and worked on the gardens. My intent was to weed for an hour or two, then swim and work on some coding. But I felt more comfortable outside than inside (it felt like there was less nature outside than inside the house). So three hours later, I finished weeding and mulching both garden beds by the back patio, and my sweat had washed some of my sunscreen into my eyes. It wasn't horribly painful, but it did mean that staring at a monitor was right out.
Today I am achy all over, because three hours of kneeling on concrete and pulling out weeds is too much. But there has been no further bat activity in the house, so hopefully things can go back to what passes for normal around here.