You would be wrong.
Last night I decided to check email one last time before heading to bed (I had sent off an email to several friends, and I was curious about the responses), against my better judgement (usually emails right before bed mean sleepless nights). I sat down at my desk, hit the "power on" button on my trusty laptop, and sat back to watch it go through its startup routine. It was then that I noticed the shadow fluttering around on the walls and the ceiling. "Geez, that's a big moth," I thought. "Maybe it's a Luna!" (I have always wanted to see a live Luna moth, and I couldn't imagine what other moth would be so large in these latitudes). I swung around to look--and it was a bat, fluttering towards me in that alarming way bats have of seeming slightly tipsy and uncertain of their flight path.
I jumped up and ran out of the room, screaming, if you will excuse the expression, like a girl. "Omigod, Omigod, there's a bat in there!" I screeched, closing the door to my study and hyperventilating. DP calmly says, "Well, reach in and turn off the light, then close the door. However it got in, it can get out the same way."
"No, my computer's on, I've got to turn it off!" (I've been having "issues" with the battery in my not-so-trusty laptop)
I dashed in, ducking and turning to avoid the poor terrified bat, to turn off the computer. I opened the door to the attic (which opens off my study) to let the critter get back upstairs and out, as I was assuming that it got in through a partially opened (although screened) window in the attic.
We closed the door, made sure it was latched, and went to bed. Twenty minutes later, I was awakened by the thump and clatter of Big Cat jumping after something, and DP said resignedly, "I think the bat got out."
I sat up, turned on the light, and sure enough, there was Kamikaze Bat, once again swooping madly about, trying to avoid the cat, the slowly-turning ceiling fan, the walls, and us. It came straight at me, and I reprised my shriek of earlier.
We got up, turned on all the lights upstairs in an effort to drive it downstairs, and I called the city hall information number, hoping that 1) Animal Control would come catch a bat, and 2) they would do it at 12:30 am (as recorded on my Zen clock at bedside). No to both. "If it's outside, like rats, we can lay poison," said the not-very-helpful young man at the city information desk (which did answer the phone at 12:30 am). "But if it's inside, you have to take care of that yourself--like maybe call a pest control company. But you'll probably have to call them in the morning. Are you sure it was a bat? I didn't think we had bats here."
Eedjit. I was very sure it was a bat--I know the difference between a bat and a moth, or a bat and a bird...Humph.
So DP and I had to concoct a plan. We devised one that involved "herding" the bat onto our back mudroom-type porch, from which it could escape through an open door. The bat had other ideas. It ended up in the bathroom, clinging to the bathmat draped over the side of the tub (so I got an extremely good look at it, and yes, it was a BAT). I took the screen out of the bathroom window, turned off the light, closed the bathroom door, and we blocked the bottom of the door with towels (I understand they can get through very small spaces). We went to bed.
This morning, the bat is gone. The cats have lost what they thought was a great play-toy. The screen has to get back in the window. The towels did their job.
Mr. M. slept through the whole thing. Guard dog, hah!
So, anyone want to clean the attic with me?
Our nocturnal visitor, the Little Brown Bat, AKA myotis lucifugis.