a bat in the bathroom

I was brushing my teeth the other night when I look up and am startled to find a wee little bat huddled way up in the corner. I shrieked.

- Honey, there's a bat in the bathroom!
- There is not. (I don't know why he never believes me--why would I make up something like that?)
- Yes, it's a bat. What other furry things do you know of that can hang upside down from ceilings?

When I finally managed to drag H. over to look at this thing, he finally conceded (-Ok, yes, it's a bat) but then it was late and we had to get up early the next morning, so we just closed the bathroom door and went to sleep. I left the lights on in there, figuring that maybe I could trick it into staying asleep and not flying all over the place.

The next morning at work I do a little research and I decide that this is something we can handle ourselves. The plan involves blocking off the rest of the house (I used a curtain rod, an old sheet, and lots of masking tape), opening up the door to the garage--which is thankfully very close to the bathroom--and then waiting for him to wake up at dusk, smell the fresh air coming in (bats, I learned, have a very good sense of smell), and just show himself out. So that evening we carry out all the preparations, open up the doors, and... nothing. The little bat just goes on sleeping.

From my research I had also learned that it was most likely a Mexican free-tailed bat, judging from his tail, that he most likely came from the attic (we'd left the attic door open when we were Pergo-ing around that doorway) and that we could also try scooping him up in a wet towel (taking care to protect our hands from his sharp bug-crunching teeth), and just carrying him outside.

After I warn him about the teeth, however, H. decides he'd like to try something else first, and he retrieves a squirt gun from somewhere in the garage. We fill it with a little water and hope that a few splashes will help the bat wake up.

This turns out to be a BAD IDEA.

After several squirts we have to stop--the poor little thing is feebly moving his wings a bit to shake off the water, but does not show any inclination to leave his roosting spot. In fact, he's even starting to shiver. (I also have pictures of the bat after the dousing but have decided to spare you--a wet bat is not a pretty sight.) We feel bad and decide to help him dry off by aiming the hair dryer on low temperature in his general direction, but then we get to worrying about stirring up air-borne pathogens, and didn't I just read about how bats are really sensitive to temperature changes?

Long story short, we finally get him wrapped in the wet towel and we take him out to the front lawn, where the bat immediately regains his bearings and takes off. We watch him for a moment as he flies high into the sky, circling around the yard, the house, and eventually disappearing from sight.

Then we go back inside to clean up the mess and get started on dinner.