Wednesday, April 29, 2009

No Bats In My Belfry!

Just before moving out to Tucson I remember an incident with my security system that caused a lot of gray hairs to appear. I was living in Cincinnati at the time in a two story home with an unfinished basement. Newly divorced, it was just my three children and me. This particular Saturday night I was childless and had gone out for the evening. Came home, nestled into my bed about 1:00am and fell right to sleep. I was rudely awakened at 3:30am by my security system going off. (Not the way anyone should be aroused from slumber let alone a female by herself.) I had a security pad on my bedroom wall so was able to immediately identify that the sensor in the basement was triggered. The security company immediately called to see if I was alright. Of course I was NOT alright, my alarm was blaring for all the world to hear including whoever triggered it. Police were dispatched and the security company person said that she would stay on the phone with me. She then asked if I wanted to go check the house out while she was on the phone. (This is the kind of question you don’t want to hear from someone who should know better). I told her that I didn’t think her being on the phone would be sufficient protection if I encountered the trespasser.

Police arrive and begin to inspect the home, one policeman outside and one in. The very brave policeman heads down into the basement. I stand guard at the top of the stairs, not really sure what I would do in the event but sure I would do something! The next thing I see is the policeman racing around the corner flying up the stairs two at a time yelling “I know what set your system off and you should close the basement door.” The thought processes at 3:30am aren’t real sharp but I could figure out that if I closed the door I would be closing the policeman in on whatever had him racing up the stairs. He flew through the opened door, I slammed the door shut and fell against it, no spit left in my mouth to even speak. Just held up the door staring at the policeman waiting for him to catch his breath, wondering what was going to plow through the door. Finally he said “You have a bat in your basement.” “A bat as in the flying variety bat?” I asked not able to wrap my mind around the fact that a little flying thing would send this big policeman running. “A bat” he said “And I don’t do bats.” I told him that was OK as long as he does the bad guys I could handle the bat.

As the story goes…..anything is possible. Everyone has his or hers Achilles heel.

If you live in the area where bats are common you learn very quickly that they can travel anywhere. Apparently this little creature entered in the attic and worked its way down in the walls to the basement where it found freedom. I never did catch it.

1 comment:

  1. That's a funny story. I had a girlfriend come home to find bats hanging on her curtain rod. At dusk, you can see bats flying out of my father's attic. I've had a bat fly into my thick curly hair a couple of times. Funny creatures, aren't they?


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