I have lived in this house for eight years. One would think one would know if all after that long in a relationship but evidently not. A few years ago, while my wife's aunt was visiting, there came a bat a fluttering around our office in the basement. I grabbed a broom and did what any manly man would do. I beat the shit out of that bat with two screaming girls trying to hide behind me. My wife was actually ON MY BACK which made it hard to swing that broom but I managed and I won. Since five years had gone by before our first bat, I figured it was a fluke and had probably gotten in some evening through an open door and had just hung out in the basement until my wife discovered it one day. Now that I think about it both have high pitched squeals but my wife has the higher decibel limit.
So as I was sitting here at this very computer in that basement office some three years later writing some witty post for my blog, I heard what sounded like something falling onto the floor in the adjacent laundry room followed by some rattling of various objects in that room. Now let me take a step back and say that when it is nearly nine o'clock in the evening and one is hearing something rustling around in a room where no one should not be, one's heart starts beating a little faster.
So I tiptoed over to the room, why I don't know unless I hoped that sneaking up on rustling critter would somehow benefit me, and slowly opened the door. Normally this would be followed by a thorough search of the room to find the culprit but this time the light shining around me and through the cracked door into the darkened room highlighted the object immediately. It was a bat. Before I could say bat, it flew right at me and out into the office.
Quick as I could, I shut the door leading upstairs hoping to contain the bat to its present location and successfully accomplished that goal. However, I was on the wrong side of the door of my bat slaying weapon, the broom. So after swatting at the bat with my hands to keep it from draining me of blood on one of its swoops near my head, I darted out the door and slammed it behind me. I quickly armed myself with the broom and crept (there I go creeping again for no apparent reason) back down the stairs to the office and slowly opened the door.
Again, I saw the bat immediately on the far wall desperately trying to crawl behind a bookcase and the wall. So I crept over there keeping a wary eye out for a swift move towards my hair or neck and whacked it a good one with the broom. It fell and hit the stepped portion of the foundation wall where the concrete and wooden part of the structure meet and there it met its maker as I beat the shit out of it with a broom. God them things are ugly.
When it was thoroughly dead, I scraped it into a nearby gift bag from some store that my wife had saved for future gifting purposes and through the sucker outside and then disposed of the bag. It was only then that I realized that my heart felt like it was going to jump out of my chest and it took a minute or two to calm down. I must say, beating bats are a good workout.
On the plus side, I think I know how they are getting in the house. In the downstairs utility room, there is a stud cavity that is 95% blocked off but in that 5% that is open, that is where any wiring going from the basement to the main level of the house is routed. The cavity goes up to the attic which eventually leads to an access hole in the garage that is capped by a garage door with an old rubber door seal that has a malformed spot in the center where it folds the wrong way and has taken on a permanent set that leaves a small gap between the door and the floor. So item one on this weekend's agenda is to fix the door seal and then seal up the stud cavity between my attic and my basement laundry room. I don't want to have to beat the shit out of another bat.