Most of you would agree that the most terrifying experience is surely being robbed at gunpoint. I have been robbed at gunpoint. Trust me - that is NOT the most terrifying experience.
You know what is?
Yes, that's right. A bat.
Not just a simple bat in the forest. Oh no, a bat IN YOUR HOUSE.
Many of you know that last August I got a bat in my house. Dad came over and killed it.
That seems lack luster. "Dad came over and killed it". Seriously? Pardon my pun, but I went bat-shit crazy when that thing was in my house!!!
For six months after, I carried a tennis racket under my arm and searched every room I walked into.
Slowly but surely I became more and more comfortable with being in the house -- and I thought I was in the clear this year when fair week came and went (fair week is when they open the barns and all the bats fly out and find new homes)
I.Was.Wrong.
On Sunday, August 26th, (I need to remember the exact date for next year), I asked Mom to come to my house. I had some water damage in my guest room closet and it was raining. Mom and I removed everything from the closet and checked for damage. Later, we realized that by doing this, we probably disturbed the bat.
So...2 hours later I'm sitting on my couch watching tv and Niko is sleeping at my feet. All of a sudden, Niko jumps up and flies into the kitchen like a bat out of hell (pun intended).
At that moment, realization hit me. "Oh. Crap"
I turned my head...oh yeah...a bat was flying at my FACE!!!
The only thing I could do to quickly protect me was put a blanket over my head and scream - and scream.
Quickly, I heard Niko chase the bat into the dining room, which gave me the opportunity to hustle it outside. I ran out on my deck and watched the action through my sliding door. As I stood there shaking, trying to call Mom and Dad, I watched the bat fly circles around my house, and my beautiful alarm dog chase after it.
...finally the bat landed on my cabinet and Niko came to find me...
The bat was still hanging out on my cabinet when Dad arrived, so it was an easy target for him. Luckily, my friend Kirsti had come to visit that weekend. We played tennis while she was here, so my tennis rackets were still right next to the slider. Dad had quick access to a killing tool -- apparently tennis rackets are actually the most commonly used bat killing device.
It was terrifying watching Dad hit the bat and having it swoop around him. Gross. Just gross.
Long story short -- Facebook friends freaked me out that a colony was living in my walls, so I lived with Mom and Dad for a solid week after that. I slept SO well in their safe house (they haven't had a bat in the 27 years they have lived in that house)
Now, I'm back in the batcave, scared out of my mind. I have all the lights on in the house (trying to push them outside, not in). I'm constantly looking over my shoulder and I'm carrying around a tennis racket...or two. Work won't be done at the house for another month...and so I'm living in fear. Last night I slept with a tennis racket in my hand and my hoodie tied with the hood on.
I.AM.IN.MISERY ... AGAIN.
Sort of on the bright side: A family friend did come over and seal up some holes in the roof. He is coming back in a little over a month to fix the drywall, fix any remaining roofing issues, fix my exhaust fan, block my attic fan and make sure I have appropriate screens behind all my exterior vents.
Prayers are welcomed, for sure!
