Let me make this clear: I realize that bats are part of God's creation, that they are relatively harmless and eat lots of mosquitoes, so they are generally a good thing to have around. I like having them here, outdoors. The key word here is outdoors. Once one gets inside my living space, especially at night, I authorize all use of force necessary to get rid of it. Or, more accurately, I authorize my husband to use any means whatsoever to get rid of it, while I lie cowering under the covers. I have issues with flying rodents.
Last night, I had been asleep for maybe half an hour when I heard my husband say "Damn. There's a BAT in here!" Out of the corner of my eye I saw something fluttering and circling, too close, and I dove under the covers while spouse went to find a suitable bat removal tool. Since we aren't into tennis or badminton, the only thing he could find was the broom, a rather clumsy thing to swing at a bat with, especially in a very small cabin. He took a few swings at the bat in the living room, and then it disappeared for about twenty minutes. Bats are kind of frustrating in that they can hide in very small cracks and crevices when someone is swinging a long-handled object at them.
I was just getting the courage to peek out from under the covers when I saw it again, circling in the bedroom. "It's here!" I screamed and took cover.
"Open the patio door!" spouse yelled. Yeah, right. I'm going to get up, with a bat circling around my head, and open the door. Actually I don't even have to get out of bed to open the door, but that was too much exposure for a bat-phobe like me. So he went out the front door, around the house, and opened the patio door. Bat apparently was scared by this and left the bedroom. Spouse came back in through the front door.
It was then that I heard a little flurry of activity, a pause, then the sound of the broom hitting the floor.
"Got it! Right in midair!"
"Did you kill it?"
"No, Puff did! Leaped about three feet in the air and grabbed it!"
Puff is our blue eyed, cuddly, three month old kitten. Apparently he has some fine hunting skills in his genes. I believe this was his first catch ever. He has earned Spouse's utmost respect, and Spouse does not generally hold most felines in high regard. I am just grateful to Puff for allowing me to sleep in peace last night, without things fluttering around my face, although I am somewhat embarrassed that a kitten has more courage than me.
6 comments:
That's a great story! I'm not keen on winged rodents, either. There's a Canadian author, Kenneth Oppel,who's written an entire series of y.a. novels, starting with Silverwing, about bats. I like some of his other stuff (about humans), but I couldn't get past the first few pages on this one. I just can't.
I left a question for you on E's site, btw, if you have time to take a look.
Great story and well told. I'm no fan of bats either. I dread the day that I fish late into the evening and a bat nails my fly as I'm casting... It happens. Frequently. Not cool.
That's awesome about your cat though, it's fun when a cute little pet reveals its instincts and natural skills like that.
Way to go Puff! Maybe you should loan Puff to Hick...she seems to have similar bat problems.
Be sure Puff's rabies vaccination is up to date, bats here are common carriers.
Great post. I had to read your story out loud to B, who laughed along with me. We've had similar stories, with similar roles, in our house over the past 10 years. Though our stories have never ended with such a dramatic feline rescue. To think such a gorgeous, cute little kitten has such aggressive and deadly skills is startling, but handy.
Glad you enjoyed the story! And that's a good reminder, Floridacracker.
Dharma bum- that's one excuse I hadn't thought up yet about why I haven't taken up fly fishing.
What?! No photo of the action?!
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