I must be a magnet, maybe lightning rod is a better term, for people who want to tell nature-related stories. For example, this morning a co-worker launched into a story about a bat that got into his house last night. And there was no stopping him. Had I dropped to the floor in the middle of the story, I honestly believe he would have finished the tale, then called 911.
Anyway, the story is not all that good, but I did find a grain of education that might be valuable to others should they find themselves in a similar situation.
I’ll leave out the profanity and words of panic that always accompany bats-in-the-house stories. This fellow realized that trying to catch the bat in a net, or waving ones arms at the critter would be of little value. What he did was grab a blanket from the bed and held it up, creating a “wall” for the bat’s sonar. The problem was, each time he maneuvered the bat closer to the open window, he lowered the blanket to check the bat’s position. Right, the bat then flew over the blanket back into the room.
His tactic eventually (two hours later) worked. He says, in thinking the whole process through, he would have done two things differently: He would not have let his wife play the role of terrified supervisor, quick to give him advice but of no help otherwise; and he would have used a see-through shower curtain.
Sound advice.
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Tarantulas in the street -vs- scorpians in the house.
I assume it was a small bat and it didn't want to join them for dinner. Uninvited guests are irksome.
Thus, when I found a tarantula in the street outside the post office in Jerome I "escorted" it to the bushes.
When I discovered a scorpian in the bathroom, I killed it with, ironically enough, a recent issue of Backpacker Magazine.
Frankly, I still feel guilty. Was it a case of public bravado -vs- private bigotry or simply inside vs. outside?
Mel
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