Long ago in a place far, far away, I lived happily with bats in my humble abode. I also lived with a gazillion mosquitos and the threat of malaria or some other mosquito-borne illness in my hut. I contracted a few of those illnesses, though not ever malaria proper. Having the bat in my hut not only provided hours of entertainment and wonder (for I could sit atop my bed under the safety of my mosquito net and hear the din of mosquito voices interrupted by the flap of mammal wings. The bats would circle my net again and again, chomping down on the mosquito feast there, never hitting the net or a wall.), but also gave me a sense of some justice. I had that many fewer mosquitos to contend with.
That episode of my life is past now, and the new story includes several other people for whom I am responsible. Part of my responsibility is to keep them safe from unnecessary harm, like rabies or what ever disease is found in bat guano. Having a secure house in a neighborhood of a lovely suburb was a place I thought would be free of these more back-country issues, but, nay! How wrong I was! So here I am, struggling to find a solution as I find a big brown bat each morning with our wonderful cat's help. yesterday behind the plant on the floor of the dining room, this morning behind the lamp in the living room. Today I decided it was very important to figure out if the invasion is just one very crafty bat, or if it is more than one.
Me to second daughter, "Honey, can I borrow your nail polish please?"
Daughter to me, "What? Really? You want nail polish?"
Me, "Yes, I want to paint the bat's toes."
Daughter, "Oh, that makes more sense. What color?"
Me, "Something obnoxiously bright."
Big brown bat got its toes painted this morning before being released out back. My hope is I will never know if it was one or more bats, but at least if I do find another bat in the house I can look for the pink nail polish and know if it is a problem of one bat or many.