The move to Lake LeAnn was huge. Not only did we purchase a house on a lake, it had two fireplaces. Living on a lake, and having a fireplace, were big parts of my “dream house”. I thought both would provide great enjoyment for a number of years. I was right.
Many years passed before we had our first run in with a bat. I believe the trouble began when we made a major addition around 1985. We added a master suite so each of the kids could have his/her own bedroom and we’d have a larger foyer. We also installed new windows and resided the house. With three growing kids, we wanted more space, and while we were at it, Ruth wanted to make it “prettier”. I think all the jostling the house took shook up the wildlife.
One fall evening, as I arrived home from work, what I thought was a leaf, blew in the front door with me. As I hung up my coat I learned it wasn’t a leaf. It was a bat. It flew up and down the stairs a couple of times before wedging itself in one of the beams that ran through the downstairs family room.
I wasn’t sure how to extract it until I remembered the practice arrows I had for my bow. I retrieved a couple of arrows, stood on the couch, and just as I was about to stab the invader, Ruth and the kids came home. Ruth looked down the stairs and asked why I was standing on the couch.
“I’m about to kill a bat. Grab a towel and get down here.”
She did has I asked and then I said, “If the bat falls, throw the towel over it.”
I pinned the bat between two arrows, and as I pulled him from his hiding place, he fell to the floor. Ruth threw the towel over him and ran for cover. I grabbed the towel covered bat and threw it into the yard. One down.
About a year later, our second and third bats appeared on consecutive nights. I nailed the first one with my racquetball paddle. We weren’t sure how he got in, but we knew he was gone. After another appeared the next evening, which also met its demise by racket, we called in a bat expert. The expert explained the first bat was probably a young bat, and the second was an adult looking for the lost youngster. True or not, we hired the guy to bat proof the house.
One evening when Ruth, Elizabeth and I were the only ones at home, we heard squealing coming from behind a mirror above the mantel of the living room fireplace. We were certain another bat had invaded the house. We developed a plan which required one of us the pull the mirror off the mantel, while another swung the “killer” racquetball paddle. After much discussion, we decided I’d handle the mirror, Elizabeth would swing the paddle, and Ruth would hide in the bedroom. We agreed on a three count. Elizabeth counted, one – two – three – and I pulled the mirror from the mantel. Nothing. There was nothing behind the mirror. We determined the noise was coming from inside the chimney.
The next day we called a chimney sweep and he said, “You don’t have bats in the chimney. You’ve got raccoons. A mom has probably had her babies there.” Holey! Moley! Raccoons!
He told us to place a bowl of ammonia inside the fireplace. “They won’t like it, and they’ll leave. I’ll be out in a couple of days to clean the chimney and develop a plan to seal it for you.”
As soon as I placed the bowl inside the fireplace, the evacuation began. We heard squealing and scratching for several minutes and then nothing.
The sweep arrived as planned and discovered raccoon poop atop the chimney flue. After cleaning the chimney, he installed a “critter cap” (my words) on top of the chimney. We haven’t had a raccoon in the chimney since.
We had a skunk removed from the yard about five years ago. He set up shop under some bushes on the lakeside of the house. The guy we hired set two live traps that we were to monitor. The first night we caught a cat. I released the cat and reset the trap.
A couple of days later, we caught the skunk. I called the critter guy and he was out in about an hour to remove it. I watched for his arrival, but missed it. I knew he was on-site when the skunk smell hit my nostrils. The skunk didn’t like the cage ride so he set off his sent. I guess that’s why you pay the critter guy whether he catches a skunk or not. It’s hazard pay for the times he does.
Our longest running battle was with woodchucks. They excavated a series of tunnels that ran from the waterside deck, to a hole near the east side of the house, then back and forth across the yard. Ruth had a co-worker who came to the house to set a couple of traps – death not live. We caught a couple, but they just kept coming. We finally hired a man to gas them. He found the ends of the tunnels, blocked them with large rocks, and sent gas pellets down both ends.
Our lawn looked like it was on fire when the smoke seeped through the grass above the tunnels. It was a smoky site to see.
We’ve had one snake invade our space. About a dozen years ago, when Eva was still a baby, I spotted what looked like a pile of poop on our screened in porch. Upon further inspection, I discovered it was a coiled snake. I retrieved my “bat towel”, threw it over the snake, and then tossed the “bat toweled” snake into the yard. I didn’t tell Ruth until now. If she reads this blog she’ll know.
Over the years our homeland has been invaded by bats, racoons, woodchucks, mice, chipmunks, skunks, a snake, dozens of deer, the occasional opossum, birds nesting in the deck beams and garage rafters, flotillas of ducks, geese, and swans, but we have prevailed.
A week before we left our Florida home to head north, a black snake scooted into our garage as we returned from a round of golf. Luckily, I saw the intruder’s invasion, and after a fifteen minute battle, I literally swept him out of the garage, down the street, and into the storm drain.
We have a pond across the street from that home. If the alligator living in the pond ever finds his way into our yard, we’re movin. I’m getting tired of fighting mother nature.