Wednesday morning I went into the bathroom to take a shower. When I turned on the light, there was a bat sitting on the counter that quickly dropped to the floor and disappeared. I was leery about the bathroom but having an appointment to do an interview, I needed to look human. Psyching myself up, I gingerly got in the shower. That was not too bad although the shower, a cultured marble, has black bat-sized splotches that kept my eyes peeled on my surroundings. This was not the usual relaxed shower of warm water cascading down my back.
Afterwards was the frightening part. The bat, I thought, was under the bottom edge of the drawers. As I brushed my teeth, I had my feet planted a good foot back from the counter so I would not get bitten. I was nervous.
With the thought of rabies in mind, I took a minute to call 9-1-1 to make sure that since we had recently moved we were in the system. In the stress of the moment, I could not remember my address. Dispatch assured me they had it and if I needed medical attention all I had to do was dial. They asked if I needed help with the bat but my husband said when he got home he would send it on its merry way.
Leaning forward to brush my teeth and put cream on my face was easy. But putting on mascara and lipstick was a little more difficult. In fact, I fear when I went to the interview I may have looked like a clown.
During the process of trying to look a few years younger, I simultaneously washed laundry. The day before, I had received a quarterly magazine from my insurance agent, Bob Pinnell, with a blurb reminding homeowners to empty lint filters in their dryers. That thought had stuck in my mind.
I opened the kitchen cupboard to put the ball of lint in the trash. As I pulled the wastebasket out, a bat was sitting on the side of it and flew to the back of the cupboard. My heart pounded as I slammed the cupboard shut. How many bats were in the house?
I remembered hearing noises in the attic one morning when we first moved to Eagle Point a few months earlier. It was obvious there were bats nesting up there so I called in a wildlife trapper. At first he said he could not come until the following day but after hearing the panic in my voice he came right after work.
Dan (the trapper) and I searched high and low, behind paintings and every other imaginable space such as the attic, but the bat or bats were nowhere to be found. Dan found bat signs, however, in the kitchen cupboard but felt there might only be one bat terrorizing me. Unfortunately he left empty-handed although he did give advice on how to combat the problem.
Finally it was bedtime. My husband and I checked the house. He blocked openings, barricaded the kitchen cupboard so the bat could not get out if it was still in there and shook the towels in the bathrooms. We turned out the lights and got in bed. Although exhausted from more than 12 hours of an adrenaline rush, I could not sleep. Several times I got up to reconnoiter but I found zilch.
Do I still love Eagle Point? You bet. The only problem is—it is time to shower and I am home alone – or am I?
By Margaret Bradburn
Of the Independent