Well, luckily, we haven't had any more mousey friends here at the museum but we did have another guest of the winged variety. Yes, a bat managed to find its way into our museum. And since apparently I'm the courageous one of us, I got to dispose of it. Thoroughly dispose of it because that was the second time today that it had tried to get into the museum. And I feel just awful. Did you know that bats not only squeak but they also hiss like a cat? I didn't.
This morning our visitor's service staff person found it attached to the broom. She simply took the broom outside and shook the bat into the bushes about 10 feet away from the front door. Then about an hour later, our executive director came to the front door and found the bat under the threshold. Not a good place. So, she used her cell phone to call me to get rid of the bat. Thank goodness for modern appliances! The bat was acting oddly, even for a bat and we decided since it apparently really liked the museum, we needed to get rid of it.
Anyhow, I still feel bad. I don't like things squeaking in pain at me because of something that I'm doing to it. (Note to self: a career option not open to us "CIA interrogator")
I even don't like it when I kill box elder bugs in my house even though I hate box elder bugs.
Such a softy...
Is anyone with me on this??
4 years ago
3 comments:
Why does it always feel like an Us vs. Them senario? We want a place to live; they want a place to live. Somehow the phrase 'Survival of the Fittest' still falls flat like a shoe onto a mouse. Ick. I'm sorry you had to kill the bat. Hopefully in the future the other creatures will actualy notice the "Not for Rent" sign outside the Museum.
That was me, not Reid.
Hi Girl,
Garners are now two, bats are zero, here's the tale. Last night, just about an hour before friday 13th, as Leah and I were sleeping we heard a slap and flapping coming from the master bath. Then out burst a bat into our bedroom which promptly started to fly about the room attempting to "roost" in the corners but not finding anything to latch ont. Leah quickly hid under the covers while I sprung to action and looked for a suitable weapon. Not finding one I grabbed up a pillow and started swinging at the bat. Leah shouted "open a window" and I did that and tried to encourage the bat towards the window. That did not work on many levels as the bat eventually sought the tallest not-trying to hit it object in the room which was Leah in the bed. Fortunately Leah stays calm long enough for me to bat it away from here and it crawled under the bed. This gave me pause long enough to turn on the lights in time to see it lunging from the top of the bed into a new flight pattern directed towards my head. Bat meets pillow, pillow and bat meet floor with Boy on top (take that wildlife). Once assured of some safety, Leah gets out of bed and grabs me a bat transport (large towel) and got into the next room over and closed the door behind her. Good thing too, because predictably the bat did eventually squirm away from me and fly down the hall and down the stairs. I chased in hot pursuit. Once downstairs I ditched the pillow for the more traditional tennis racket. The bat started flying around the living room. Like a tennis ball with wings I gave the bat my best "serve", crunch and down on the ground. I could tell it was badly wounded and the continued chewing on the tennis racket with razor sharp teeth convinced me that it would not go gently into that good night. I finished it off with a "meep" and took it to the trash can. I feel bad too Girl but there was no choice, it was wounded and angry and I could not afford to let it go again. My late night efforts were rewarded as Leah declared me her hero and then gently pointed out that the screens only go half way up which is how the bat got in. Someone, not her, had opened the top of the windows (oops).
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