I had known for the past several days that there was a bat in the house. I hadn’t paid much attention to it, actually. This is not the first time, nor will it be the last, that a bat has somehow made its way into the house. I can’t figure out how they keep getting in. None of the windows are open that I know of.
Anyway, last week I saw him flying around the living room. I knew it was hopeless to catch him so I just let it go. Last night he walked, crablike, across the floor in front of the fireplace and I saw him and marveled that he was still alive. I went away to get a box but when I came back he had vanished.
This evening I was asleep (finally!) on the couch when I woke up to the sensation of something crawling across my foot. This was not an insect — I could feel it through my socks and it was big. I instinctively shook my foot violently to get rid of whatever it was — I assumed a mouse. I got up and turned on the light and saw the bat clinging to the back of the couch.
The bat is outside now, thank goodness. I got a kitchen towel, pried him off the couch (he didn’t want to go, clung to the fabric with his little clawsies) and carried him in the towel onto the porch. I had the opportunity to get a close look at him under the porchlight. Bats are cute. They look like mice with wings. He had little tiny pinprick eyes and he made little clicking noises. I was actually tempted to pet him. I took some pictures with my cell phone camera, then went next door to fetch my neighbor the minister. But when we got back the bat had flown away.
Nice knowing you, little batty. Don’t come visit me again any time soon.