BATS

Living in an old house one often comes up against the problem of bats. When I first learned that they were living in the walls and attic of my old 1832 house, I innocently thought that renovating the entire house would result in their moving out. Ha!



Over the ensuing years I have learned to live with them -- I don't bother them and they don't bother me. I did learn from my contractor Steve that I have small brown bats and they migrate in the winter, returning in May to raise their young. It is the females that usually reside in houses, the males preferring hollow trees and similar locations. I did have him plug up any exits that we found in October after they had left, but they found a way in next year. I also made him put up six bat houses in tall trees around my property, but I've never seen any evidence of bats having taken up residence there.



Three out of four summers I have had one bat zig when he should have zagged and get into the part of the house where I live. The first summer, I came home after dark and soon saw a tiny bat flying around my kitchen. The cats were quite excited. After my initial panic I assessed the situation. I noticed that on his trip around, the bat swooped into the little room off the far end of the kitchen that I use as an office. I crept over closer until he again swooped into the office, then I jumped in after him and closed the door. Keeping low to the floor, I crawled over to the window with the bat flying frantically above me. I opened the window as wide as I could and pushed the screen out onto the ground below. Then I backed toward the door. In seconds, the bat swooped out and away. At the time, I figured that the bat had come into the house when I opened the back door. That was the only bat incident the first summer.



The second summer there was another bat flying around the kitchen when my daughter Sarah and I returned home one evening. Her boyfriend Joe might also have been with us. This time the bat was flying through the dining room as well and the cats were going wild, batting at it. I couldn't wait for the bat to decide to swoop into the office, and went after my little frog net that was just outside the back door. I used that when relocating frogs from my ponds to the marsh for the winter where they could safely burrow into the mud for their dormant stage.



When the bat briefly settled, I was able to clap the net over him and escort him safely out the back door. When I returned home the next evening, Sarah and Joe were there ahead of me and told me that the bat had returned. They had come home to find Sarah's cat Luci staring intently at one of the DVD cabinets. Sure enough, the bat had crawled out from under it at one point in an attempt to make its escape. Luci was ready to pounce, but Sarah quickly got the net and rescued the bat once again.



After that episode I noticed that in the kitchen where the old cross beams in the ceiling joined the length beam on the outside wall, there was an opening. It was close to the soffit on the outside where I had seen bats going in and out, probably from a location in the upstairs bathroom wall. I figured that one of the young ones had missed a turn when leaving for the evening. The next time Steve was there to do a small job, I had him plug that hole and stain the spot to match the beams. He was a bit dismayed that the work he and Lee had done to try to seal the entrances had failed, and that the bats were not residing in the bat houses that he had spent a morning installing. Anyway, there were no more bats in the house that summer nor were there any the following year although they were clearly in their favorite wall and in the attic.



This summer I had become quite complacent about the bats and thought nothing of it when I heard rustling after turning out the light at bedtime the other evening. Steve and Lee had been back to reshingle a large section of the roof and I figured the bats had been disturbed and wandered into the portion of attic above my bedroom. As I tried to settle into sleep the rustling grew louder and was now accompanied by fluttering. It sounded too close to be in the wall. I turned on the light. There was a bat swooping around the room. Abu, the white cat who was with me picked up his ears and began swatting at it as it sailed over his head.



I had read that you have as much chance of being struck by lightning as you do of being bitten by a rabid bat so I was not too concerned about the safety of Abu or myself. However, I was worried about the bat injuring himself knocking into walls or being tormented by Abu, and I didn't look forward to trying to sleep with the bat's frantic activity above me. I watched him dumbly for a moment while I formulated my plan.



The frog net was out by the ponds where I had been scooping algae. Did I really want to go way out there in my nightshirt to fetch it. Yes. I crawled off the bed, keeping low, Abu running ahead of me. By this time he had lost interest in swatting at the bat and just wanted to get away from this creature that was divebombing him. He zoomed ahead of me down the stairs. I closed the door to keep the bat contained.



I returned a minute later with the frog net, and remaining close to the floor crept over to the bottom of the bed. The bat continued careening around near the ceiling until he finally settled on the drape. I slowly approached him, net poised. I looked at him and he looked at me. I brought the net up over him and he fluttered into it. Success. Now I just had to get him down the stairs, through the big living room and out the back door. He was slowly crawling up the inside of the net.



If I had been smart, I would have put a magazine over the top of the net to keep him in, but there was none handy. I raced as fast as I could down the stairs, watching the wiley bat creep upwards. I was almost at the back door when he made it to the top and flew off into the kitchen. At that point I found a magazine to cover the top and went in search of him again. All the cats were now engaged in tracking the bat. I anticipated a lengthy chase but within minutes found him settled on the beam near another hole that I had missed previously. It was within a few feet of the back door and I slipped the net over him and transported him to the door and out. Within seconds he was gone, off into the night on his mosquito quest.



I would have been happy if this were the end of the story. The next night there was no bat when I got home from work and I figured that was it for the year. But the next morning when I came downstairs to feed the cats, I saw a small bat lying dead on the floor of the little front living room. He was not eaten but his wings were bent. With my frog net I gently picked him up and carried him out to the stone wall -- hoping that he was only playing possum. It was sad, but I had to conclude that he was quite dead as I placed him in a niche.



The question remains. Was this the same bat who lost his way again and was killed by the cats before I came home? I had not seen the bat land on the beam the night before. Had I rescued a different bat that night? Was this the bat I had originally caught and that had climbed out of the net? Had he still been at large somewhere in the house, but not caught by the cats until the next night? He was not on the floor after the first night. Last night there was no bat and no evidence of any this morning. The next time Steve or Lee come I'll have them patch this second hole.