Going batty

Twinkle, twinkle, little bat!
How I wonder what you're at!
Up above the world you fly,
Like a tea tray in the sky.
--Lewis Carroll

A tea tray indeed!  I awoke last night about 1 a.m. to the sound of dashing and scurrying about the room.  I have two cats and, of course, such a disturbance is hardly unusual. 

Sometimes they've dragged a mouse or small bird in from outside to convince me of their cleverness.  But as I listened in the dark, I noticed sounds indicating a certain amount of leaping,   This sound generally suggests that they're in pursuit of nothing more exciting than a moth.

The commotion continued.  I turned on the lights.

 Great guns!  It's a giant moth, a pterodactyl among moths.

On closer inspection -- not easy, as the flying object was darting about the room at great speed -- it clearly showed itself to be a small bat.  Two thoughts instantly occurred to me -- first, I don't want it anywhere near me; and second, I've got to get rid of it.

The cats themselves were certainly not helping the situation, and the bat appeared disturbed and somewhat hyper.  I went downstairs to get a glass of water, as I formed my strategy.  The bat followed me, at a safe distance, with the cats in hot pursuit. 

Now a bird is stupid.  Once it gets inside the house it goes crazy and then withdraws into a corner behind the sofa.  But a bat is a fellow mammal.  Intelligent.  And, I reasoned, bats are good at finding their way into caves -- and out again.  What was my house, to a bat, but a giant cave?  I opened the door to the back deck, walked back upstairs, firmly closed my bedroom door, and went to sleep. 

About an hour later, I awoke again and decided to check things  out.  I opened the bedroom door, and was faced by two cats who stared accusingly at me, scandalized that I had shut them out of my room. 

The bat was gone.  As I suspected, he had recognized a cave exit when he "saw" (echolocated) my open door.  He got out of Dodge.

How did he get in?  I doubt he allowed a cat to pluck him out of the air and drag him in through the cat door.  He seemed to be a fellow who was a bit more forceful in handling his affairs than that.  But I do have a small window that swings open in my bedroom.  The night being fairly warm, I had left it open, as I often do in summer.  First time in all my years that a bat was curious enough to enter.

First time, in fact, that I realized my neighborhood even had bats.  But as a Facebook "friend" commented, everyone always knew I had bats in my belfry.  I can't argue.