Batty Encounters

Last Thursday, while walking through the sanctuary of our church, my friend Lizz nearly stepped on a bat. The unexpected visitor was lying on the ground, seeming either ill or close to death. Our church’s maintenance engineer, Terry, quickly dashed to the office to fetch the specialized net we keep for incidents like this, then carefully captured the distressed creature. They released it into our community garden before contacting animal control to arrange pickup. Upon arrival, the animal control officers scooped the bat into a coffee can, asked numerous questions, and then cheerfully departed with the furry flying mouse. This thrilling episode sparked a conversation about our personal bat encounters, prompting me to realize I have several stories worth sharing with you, my readers.

As a child, I recall hearing about the men in my church attempting to capture a bat that had entered the sanctuary. Equipped with nets, baseball bats, and blankets, they struggled to strike and secure the unwelcome congregant, but despite an hour of parkour, the bat managed to evade them. Then, my Uncle Gus devised the bold plan of retrieving his shotgun from his truck and shooting the varmint. When he came through the double doors holding the gun, the other men anxiously yelled for him to stop. Ignoring their pleas, he quickly pumped the shotgun, raised it to his shoulder, and fired. The bat was obliterated, along with a portion of the roof. As penance for his sin, Uncle Gus spent the following week repairing the ceiling and roof of Holy Trinity Catholic Church.

During my time at Mount Marty College, a bat broke into the Roncalli Student Center while we were queued up for dinner. While the farm-raised students stayed calm as the bat swooped overhead, I – unaccustomed to such encounters – screamed, covered my head, and ducked behind my friends. Chaos erupted as the bat continued its erratic flight, struggling to escape the commotion. Before long, Sr. Maria Teresa appeared, wearing gloves and armed with a large fishing net. With a weary glance at us, the no-nonsense nun patiently waited for the bat to approach her. Eventually, she caught it in the net and, casting one final look of disgust in our direction, she carried the bat outside and set it free into the evening sky.

While on summer vacation years ago, Ericka and I visited her family in Wisconsin. After spending a delightful day together, we made our way to the cozy guest bedroom located in the basement. We secured our dog, Sampson, in his kennel before preparing to get some much-needed rest. As I was falling asleep, Sampson began to gruffle in his kennel, jolting me awake. This happened several times, testing our patience with our normally well-behaved dog, leading both Ericka and me to scold him. Just as I nestled back into my pillow and pulled up the blankets, I suddenly sensed a breeze on my cheek. Startled, I peered into the darkness, wondering if there was something there or if I was just imagining it. The sensation returned moments later. Sampson started woofing again, so I urged Ericka to get up and switch on the light. When the room was illuminated, I screamed and dove beneath the covers as a bat swooped toward my head. Ericka quickly left the room to fetch our brother-in-law, Brian, slamming the door behind her and trapping me with the flying menace. The two came back armed with a tennis racket and a fishing net to battle the flapping intruder. While they struggled to catch the creature, they teased me as I trembled under the covers. Before long, they managed to capture the bat and took it outside. Though I barely slept that night, Ericka and Sampson slept like babies.

One evening, quite out of the blue, my friends encountered a tricky predicament when Christine spotted a bat clinging to the beams in her bedroom. Since she was feeding Liam at the moment, she asked Adam to catch it. Without hesitation, Adam armed himself with a tennis racket and pursued the bat around the room, attempting to swat it down. After some effort, he managed to knock the frightened creature to the floor. Just as he reached to grab it, Christine warned him to protect his hands from potential bites. Acting quickly, he took a small vinyl bib from the changing table to use as a makeshift glove. Unfortunately, the bib offered little defense against the bat’s razor-sharp teeth, and he was bitten, causing immediate pain and alarm. Christine insisted he get medical attention without delay. That very night, the brave tennis racket wielder underwent a tough two-week treatment, receiving seven injections in his bitten thumb and twenty-one in his arm. This unsettling incident served as a stark reminder that baby bibs are no match against sharp-toothed flying mammals.

Recently, on a warm summer evening, our backyard was transformed into a magical refuge as we gathered for a family swim beneath the dimming light. As the cool water enveloped us, delicate silhouettes began to dart above – a cauldron of bats taking to the air, their elegant movements casting brief shadows against the twilight sky. Ericka’s gentle laughter filled the atmosphere, entertained by my wary glances and nervous efforts to conceal my unease. Though I felt apprehensive, the captivating scene was irresistible; we spoke softly while observing the complex bat ballet overhead, creating a spellbinding moment that intertwined family, nature, and the enchanting dusk around us.

Reflecting on these bat encounters, I’m struck by how these small creatures have managed to weave themselves into so many memorable moments of my life and the lives of those around me – sometimes bringing laughter, sometimes fear, but always a story worth telling. From Uncle Gus’s explosive rooftop repair to Sr. Maria Teresa’s calm catch, and from Sampson’s warnings to Adam’s painful lesson, each tale reminds me to respect wildlife and approach encounters with caution, compassion, and a bit of humor. As I share these stories with you, I hope they inspire a newfound appreciation for the unexpected guests that flutter through our lives and a gentle reminder that sometimes the smallest creatures leave the biggest impressions.