Bat Fight Ugly, Scary and Bloody

The bat war started Saturday morning.
I caulked and foamed up every little crack, hole and potential new bat habitat around the house. Next time, when using that foam, I'll follow the directions that tell you to WEAR GLOVES. It took me half the day - and almost a gallon of acetone - to get that crap off my hands.
Just before dusk, my neighbor and I put up a long sheet of dark netting around the bat exits, securing it on three sides with staples and duct tape. At the bottom, we stapled it up so there were only a few places that they could drop through.
Then as the sun went down, I poured us a couple of big glasses of Knob Creek, got out the lawn chairs and sat down to watch the show.
Man, those bats were mad, chirping and struggling to figure out how to get out of that netting. It was warm, humid and buggy out, so we figured it would be a big bat night, and it certainly was.
One by one, they struggled around under the netting, popped out and flew away. On Sunday morning, I got up before sunrise, got a big mug of coffee and watched 'em come home.
One after the other, the bats came by, went and flew off. I guess the netting buggered their radar. There was one persistent little guy who kept going 'round and 'round and trying to find a way to get under that net, but he finally gave up after a few minutes and flew away.
It had to be my friend Dopey.
So I went back inside, satisfied that the netting was working, although it must be left up for a while because not all the bats go out on any given night.
I'm downstairs, feeling cocky and proud that my scheme worked, but then my wife screamed from upstairs.
That meant bat.
She had opened the door to the master bedroom closet, and one flew straight at her. She slammed the door in his creepy little face.
The closet runs between the master bedroom and a room over the garage, and there is a back staircase. I grabbed the fish net, opened up all the windows in the room over the garage and then slowly opened the closet door.
The bat was hanging from the ceiling on the far end of the closet. I tried to net him, but he flew off and out into the room over the garage. I quickly closed the door and went out through the door leading to the bathroom.
The wife left to go to her church job, and I set out to check for bats in every corner of the home's interior, starting with that closet, which the bat told me was the place where they were getting into the house.
I started with my wife's bathrobe hanging from the right side, and sure enough, there was a bat hanging on the wall behind it. He was in the corner, making it difficult for a clean netting.
Horrified, I backed out of the closet and into the bathroom. Here, I found a long, hollow plunger. Using it and the net, I managed to trap the bat inside the plunger. He immediately starting loudly chirping. He was inside the plunger, but I had his creepy little bat leg pinned pretty good.
Bats are not only loud, but they're smelly. They smell like wet puppy.
The boys, who were downstairs playing, found the bat amusing and interesting. I took him outside and tried to set him free in the street, but instead of flying off, he just remained face down, wings spread, looking back over his shoulder and chirping at me, as if he were saying, "LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO ME, MAN!!! SHAME ON YOU."
I felt guilty, and I knew what I had to do next.
I brained him with a pitching wedge, ending his life as quickly as I could.
Knowing there was perhaps another bat in the house, the one that flew out of the closet and into the room over the garage, I resumed my search.
And there, at the bottom of a closet wall, I found a golf ball-sized hole, leading to the chimney cavity where the bats called home. This led to the horrifying realization that bats had been living in our closet during the day. We didn't see them until Sunday, but they were certainly there.
After clearing the closet, I went into the room over the garage and found the other bat hanging in a corner high up on the ceiling. I tried to use a limb cutter to stir him so that he'd fly out a window, but he wouldn't budge.
So I shot him twice with a pellet gun. His little bullet-riddled bat body now rests in peace in the woods behind our back fence.
These were not big brown bats, as featured in an earlier blog entry. These definitely were Mexican free-tail bats. So not only have we had at least two kinds of bats living with us, it is pretty clear that our house is where they migrate to in the winter.
I resumed clearing the room over the garage and heard my son crying downstairs. Upon investigation, he claimed a bat was flying around the den. I wasn't sure to believe him, but his little brother said, "I saw him. He was flying 'round and 'round."
Then there he was, coming out of nowhere and circling the den. I believe - and hope - this was the mysterious second bat that my wife swore she saw the other night. It had been hanging around somewhere inside the house for days.
Eek.
I opened doors and windows, and the bat flew away.
Last night and this morning, we had no bat sightings, but it was cold, and there might be ones who didn't go out Saturday night and are still in that wall.
We'll see.
All I know is that I'm more of an expert on bats and bat eviction than I've ever wanted to be.