There are times when a kitchen sieve and a hardcover book are a girl’s best friend. I am not talking about an Italian cookbook and the tool to drain pasta.
Nope, I’m talking about two items that are mandatory on those occasions when your home becomes something of a wildlife park. And when it happens, it happens fast.
Such was the case recently in my downtown Bangor apartment.
It was after work and I was indulging in my regular end-of-day, before supper, 30-minute power nap on the couch with my tiny dog curled up next to me.
At some point my slumber was disturbed by my two cats making noise. More asleep than awake, I just figured they were either playing or doing their best to wake me up to feed them their 80th meal for the day.
Wrong.
Whatever they were doing was getting louder and closer to the couch. It sounded like they were pushing something around on the floor.
Eventually the noise — and the cats — were centered on the window ledge overlooking Main Street and very close to my resting head.
By then I was both annoyed and fully awake. So I sat up to see what sort of chaos they were unleashing around me.
Turns out, they had company.
There, on that window ledge, cornered by my ancient and toothless cat Reggie and the younger but not-all-that-bright Miss Kitty Carlise, was a brown bat. It only took a glance to realize it was very much alive and not happy with how its night was going.
I haven’t a clue where it came from, how it got in or how the cats got it.
Frankly, I really did not care. All I knew was me, two cats and one tiny dog were facing down a single bat.
Luckily, and not to brag but, when it comes to critter catch and release, I possess mad skills and I am a crack shot with a kitchen sieve.
While Reggie kept the bat occupied I went and got the sieve and a large book.
Back at the window ledge it quickly became apparent that Reggie and I were a team. He was not harming the bat. Instead, he was using his paw to gently keep it in place. I am not making this up — when he saw me with the sieve, he removed his paw from the bat and stepped back.
It was my turn.
I swiftly put the sieve down over the bat so it could not fly away. Then I gently slid that book under it while holding the sieve in place. The result? Instant bat transport system.
I love bats and am not at all scared of them. Keep in mind, they don’t want to be in our living space any more than we want them there.
Plus, bats need all the help they can get right now. Globally, all species of bats are important pollinators. Their numbers have severely dwindled over the past decade thanks to white nose syndrome, a disease that has killed off entire bat colonies, including ones here in Maine.
So I was delighted to be looking at what appeared to be a healthy — albeit angry — brown bat. I saw no wounds on it from its interaction with my cats and, judging by its rapid and loud vocalizations, it was more than ready to be on its way.
I carried it down to the street, still trapped beneath the sieve and on the book. When I lifted the sieve up, it wasted no time in flying away into the night.
Back inside I inspected all three pets for any potential wounds from the bat — there were none – and washed my hands.
I should note at this point that my pets are vaccinated and had the bat scratched or bitten me, I would have arranged for it to be tested for rabies.
Lastly, I disinfected my capture tools. Because you never know the next time the outside will decide to let itself inside. Even in downtown Bangor.
