Close Encounters of the Bat Kind

           One evening, five column cycles ago, while sitting at the kitchen table researching the Irish origins of Tamworth pigs, I was startled by the presence of my own red-haired lass standing in the doorway to my right. Bonnie, trembling and unable to speak, had the most horrific look on her face. My first thought, and I think I even asked, was “Who died?”

            After a short eternity, the words finally came. “There’s a bat in our bathroom.”

            I sprang from my chair, immediately went into “Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!” mode, and raced up the stairs to engage the menacing creature. No way was I going to revert to my cowardly past, not this time, anyway.

            The bat, however, was gone. “Why didn’t you close the door?!” I asked perhaps a bit snidely, especially in light of Bonnie’s fragile state. Of all people, I guess I figured she should have known better. After all, this wasn’t our first bat rodeo.

            That incident, also, involved a door- a closet door, and I somehow managed to find myself on the inside- the safe side, while Bonnie was trapped on the bat side. This particular husbandly infraction has probably been forgiven over the last 28 years, but I can assure you, it hasn’t been forgotten.

            A quick look about the bedroom revealed no bat, so I began to search the other bedrooms, only to be pulled back to the first by Bonnie’s scream. The tiny bat was hanging from one of the decorative handles on my dresser. Now what to do!

            I found an empty two-gallon milk replacer bucket in the garage, complete with lid. Our plan was for me to place the bucket over the bat, while Bonnie would slide the lid between the dresser and him. She was a tad aggressive on her initial attempt, squishing the bat against the dresser.  We didn’t need a sonar detector to realize he wasn’t pleased. Round two was successful, though, with the unwelcome ball of hair,” hiss”, and leather, plopping gently into the bucket.

            At some point during the melee, Bonnie asked me this question, and I’m not really sure why: “Did you know there was a bat in the house?” I answered the best I could.”Umm…umm… uhh.”  Was my “bravery” that suspicious?

            A few nights before, I was in the family room watching television through my eyelids, when I was awakened by the “whoop, whoop, whoop” of a small helicopter flying above me. I had heard this sound once before- the bat encounter of 1986, but by the time I rousted myself, all I could see was some sort of flying object leaving the room with our cats, Jobey and Ruthie, close behind.

            The trio traveled through the parlor, across the foyer, and into the dining room. When I caught up, only the two felines were present, lying exhausted on the rug, panting with their mouths open. The UFO was nowhere to be found. I had hoped it was just a giant moth. Evidently, I was wrong, and now you know my fling with courage at the beginning of the column may have been influenced by a double dose of guilty conscience.

            I’m not really sure why Bonnie was so upset, but I think it had to do with our home sanctuary being violated, even if the intruder was only a little brown bat. Admittedly, I felt this way to a certain extent, but I also knew we had nothing to worry about. Although bats in this area have the potential to carry rabies, my wife and I were vaccinated against this virus as veterinary students, and all of our pets are vaccinated as well.

            Have your pets had their rabies “shots”? Most dog owners vaccinate their dogs for rabies, as it is the law in many counties, but many cat owners balk at vaccinating their housecats. “The cat never goes outside,” they say. With a bat, the outside comes in, and I can attest, the first thing a cat will do is try to catch it.

            More importantly, for you human readers, if you encounter a bat in your home, contact your local health department to have the bat tested for rabies, and assess the risk of exposure to you and your family. If necessary, rabies preventive treatments should begin without delay.

            Rabies kills more than 55,000 people worldwide every year, 20,000 in India. The first known human survivor of clinical rabies was a six-year old boy from Willshire, Ohio, who suffered a bat bite to his thumb in 1970. There haven’t been many survivors since.  

            Please don’t let down your guard against this deadly disease. And for goodness sakes, vaccinate those crazy bat-chasing cats!    

Author:  Dr. John Jones
Image courtesy of panuruangjan at FreeDigitalPhotos.net