The only thing worse than a bat in the house is an angry bat in the house.

Down and dirty, this is what happened when the bat guy came out today (for full history, see Living With A Bat).  Yes, I’m afraid of bats.

I just watch you while you sleep.

I just watch you while you sleep.

He confirmed my intruder was a bat–not a mouse or any other critter.  Because only bats run circles around the drop-ceiling.  After much conversation and exploring other options such as building an elaborate tunnel out of special netting to release the bat outside the house (if the bat deigned to be part of that plan), I reluctantly said yes to BatGuy’s best recommendation to place those horrid glue-paper traps over what I thought was Mr. Bat’s regular route when he made his nightly patrols.  Via long distance, my husband agreed.

Right on cue, when the sun set the sound of Mr. Bat grabbed my attention as he raced overhead; his usual gait; run, run, run, stop; run, run, run, stop until he reached the corner where I knew the first sticky trap had been placed.  His impending doom made me nervous.

As BatGuy predicted, as soon as the bat touched the glue, he was stuck.  I heard him squirm.

I cringed.  He fought to get free; his wings fluttered.  It was horrible.  Intermittent silence with desperate struggling.  Little by little he quieted as I remembered what BatGuy had said; the more the bat struggled, the more he would adhere and would eventually give up as he wouldn’t be able to move.

Since my husband is on an inconveniently timed trip, my neighbor volunteered her gallant husband.  So, I called him when the noise from the bat stopped.

Equipped with a flashlight strapped to his head and a garbage bag, my neighbor prepared to transport the bat outside and end its suffering.  (I didn’t ask questions.)

I waited upstairs with his young son and our dog and cat; feeling guilty about the bat’s demise, but also relieved the ordeal was over.

My mouth dropped when my neighbor informed me that not only had the bat gotten UNSTUCK, it also left the glue paper stuck to the side of the wall.

So, take that I guess:  Bat one–Me zero.

Take THAT!

Take THAT!

The bat got stuck at 7 PM.  My neighbor discovered he’d escaped the trap at 7:30.  At 8, I heard a tentative pass by the bat as if it were able to see exactly where the other glue-paper traps were placed and was skipping over them.

So, that leaves me exactly–where?  It’s now 9:45 PM, and I haven’t heard another rustle.

I have a tendency to anthropomorphize, so really is the bat thinking about anything?  He took an unfortunate turn when he came into our house (like those before him…), but he can’t stay here.  I don’t know if the bat is worn out, injured, or just plain PO’d.

Not the outcome I’d hoped for or expected.  Already feeling guilty for choosing to eliminate this bat because the last bat in our house was rabid, and I can’t deal with flying rodents, I feel even worse because I admire the tenacity of this bat to keep looking for a way out.

On a typical night, he usually runs his laps around 10:30, so… the night is way too young.

bat silhouette

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5 Responses to The only thing worse than a bat in the house is an angry bat in the house.

  1. Paula says:

    Anticipation……… But not the good kind. I would NOT be sleeping at all.

  2. Candace says:

    For some reason, they seem to love your house. Not a “love” to be cherished!

  3. Pingback: Karma’s a Bat. | Sit. Desk. Write.

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