Baby Bats

After work earlier this week I began the enjoyable task of taking the garbage bins to the curb in hot, muggy sunlight. I noticed what I thought were stray woodchips on the side of the driveway. Upon closer inspection I realized they were bats. We have had bats die in the neighborhood, although smaller than these, so it was only remarkable in the clustering of several together. I assumed that the heat had taken its toll on these little creatures and regreted not having them as allies against the mosquitos.

I left them in place until the very last of my work, knowing it would be an unpleasant experience. There is nothing graceful in moving a dead animal. It was then that I counted their number. Seven on one side of the driveway and two on the other. I looked skyward towards the tree overhanging the driveway, wondering what manner of nest these fell from. I suddenly realized the number of them meant these were probably baby bats, fallen from above.

After a break inside and some dinner, I decided I had to get the carcases in the trash before the next day. When I stepped outside this time I realized not all of them were there anymore. Three remained clustered together, and two on the other side, but one know sat on the side of the house and another was missing altogether. I could not believe any of them lived so I dedided to use the bamboo stick to poke the one I thought most resembled a completely dead bat.

I gently prodded the tiny bat once. It moved. Not just any move, but one I know very well. The instinctual, brief fury of one deep in slumber and eager to return to sleep. When I poked it, the bat sharply turned its head with a mouth opened and then resumed its position. I vacated the scene quickly, before sunset.

The next morning there were no signs the bats had ever been there. It seems we now have natual insect protection again after all.