Bats

What is it with all the sodding wild animals trying to live in my house?

It's Saturday morning and I should be taking it easy, right? I know I have to go and work out at 10:30 - it's chest day, which means lots of bench press and incline press. Last night was soccer, and the satisfaction of having won (and scored a goal) is tempered with the perpetual joint pain that comes from trying to act at least ten years younger than I am. Rolling out of bed causes the emission of a sudden and involuntary "fucking hell!" and the kind of stagger downstairs more ususally associated with drunks and extras in zombie movies.

So anyway, I hear a call from Mrs.Bison who wants to show me something outside in the garden. It's a bat. Not hanging upside-down from a rafter but rolling around on the ground like it's break-dancing. Obviously it's not well and we're thinking "rabies - keep the fuck away from it". You mght remember that I mentioned this little death-sentence-in-waiting when I talked about all the Bastard Animals that try and make a home in my St.Louis house. When rolled up it looks like a child's fist of brown fur with some black trim, but when it stretches it's wings it's a huge leathery bastard with tiny claws that you half expect to flap off to a castle on the hill at any moment. It's actually a fascinating thing for its size, and it squeaks appealingly, but I'm not getting too close. I stick a bucket over it to keep it where we can deal with it.

I could throw a brick on it and dispose of the corpse but I'm an upright citizen and I like bats (and besides, you've got to be careful or the next thing you know some animal organization's going all "Michael Vick" on your ass). I also suspect that this isn't the only one I have. So instead I do what any self-respecting suburbanite would do - I go to the internet and search. Well I'm here to tell you that there's acres of shit out there about bats - their lifecycles, different varieties, feeding preferences, endangered status, mating habits and fuck knows what else. But is there anything that tells you what to do in Missouri if you find a bat? Is there fuck! Eventually I figure out that I need to call Animal Control because they'll come and get it so it can be tested for rabies. That would be easy if I had a number for Animal Control but I can't find one, so I figure I'll call the Humane Society - they probably don't do bats but I bet they'll know who to call.

Have you ever tried getting one of those fuckers on the phone? First you get a recorded response with a giant list of options ("If you want to adopt a dog, press 3"), none of which in any way relates to wild animals. I press one and get another set of choices, none of which is relevant; I hesitate a second and the system kicks me back to the start of the first menu and an irritating voice starts reading them all out to me again. So at this point I pull out the PAPER phone book, find Animal Control and before long they send a helpful, knowledgable guy out to get the bat. He examines our rapidly growing pile of bat shit and the space between the deck and the house with his flashlight, and informs us that we have a proper little colony going here. Mrs.Bison looks up at the bats and recoils in horror. (By this time Mr.Bison is at the gym...)

So now my weekend is now going to consist of hosing down batshit, bleaching their home (after they've all "gone out" for the evening) so they aren't attracted back by the smell, and hanging netting to stop them getting back in. I also get to fill in the gap with expanding foam. Since I don't want rabies I expect I'll be doing all this in a full set of protective clothes, gloves and a hat, which, in addition to making me sweat like an arse in this 100 degree heat, will also ensure that the neighbors are absolutely confirmed in their assessment that the British people next door are weird.

Mrs.Bison, by the way, doesn't do bats. Or other furry wild animals. So this one's all mine...


Copyright 2007 Edward Bison