You may remember, a few months ago, our burglar alarm being set off by a bat flying around in the dining room in the middle of the night. We never did find out how it had got in, and there were some suggestions that the Sage and I had dreamt the whole episode. Which we hadn't of course. Absolutely, surely not.
The difficulty with bats is that they are very small and almost impossible to catch, and can make themselves flat enough to hide behind pictures, furniture, any small space at all, that they fly so fast it's not easy to follow the flight with your eyes and that they have radar.
So, when the Sage came in and asked me to help chivvy a wren out of the kitchen, I did at least think we'd be able to do so.
I think a wren is my favourite bird. They are so sweet, with their little upturned tails. It's a pleasure to see them hopping around finding little insects in crevices, and they aren't that easy to spot as they are so small and such a plain brown, so it's always a treat.
It was hopping along the line of saucepans hanging against the beam against the kitchen wall. We shut the door, but there's a hatchway into the next room and (because the internet hub is in the hatchway) it is awkward to shut it quickly. So I stood with my arms raised on that side of the room while the Sage opened a window. Then we advanced on the little fellow from two directions, hoping to direct it. Of course, it made a dash over our heads towards the door. Then it flew back - I was very worried it'd land on the hot Aga - and shot out of the open window.
Poor thing had been sleeping in the front porch and followed the Sage in when he went to fetch a log for the fire. I hope it finds its way back, as that's on the other side of the house from the window it left through.
Anyway, following that small drama, I'm going to read the paper and have an early night. All this full day's work malarkey is tiring me out.
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7 comments:
I once visited a cave in western Thailand that's home to 2 million bats, who all fly out at sunset, filling the sky (and some of them getting eaten by hawks).
I suspect they would have set off your alarm.
Honestly! Whatever will you two dream up next?
We once had to catch a sparrow in my daughter's bedroom, and I remember a pigeon flying into the upstairs of a restaurant I was in. The worst thing to catch was an escaped gerbil. This entailed piling all the furniture in the room up while 4 adults crawled around the floor and one 3 year watched, laughed and clapped.
We've never had gerbils as pets, but I did catch a (wild - indeed, it was furious) mouse under a cushion once. The disadvantage of that is that you have to grope around under it for a rodent you can't see.
It happened, Dandy, and Ro is our witness. He's quite normal enough to think we're peculiar, so you can rely on him.
I think they'd set off all the alarms in the neighbourhood, Tim. I've not been to Thailand, but I remember being surprised by how large the fruit bats were in India (they were hanging from and flying around trees, not in a cave), being used to our little pipistrelles.
My best advice for displacing bats from your home is Sports Equipment.
Why do you think a cricket bat is called a bat? Because it was invented to thwack stray bats out of open windows, but bored "in service" staff used them on the back lawn when Him & Her were away, to whack hard-baked balls of lava-bread hither and thither. The butler was always, by default, wicket keeper. It's true.
If you don't have a cricket bat, tennis bats work equally well, maybe better.
Ask Dave.
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