The Working House

“It was a natural reaction. We were attacked,” we said to each other as we slumped to a floor littered with injured or half-dead bodies of little brown bats. Now, looking at them, we were filled with remorse.

A minute ago we had been slashing the air with sticks, nailing some bats dead-on and winging others. They were so fragile. Even the vortex of a near miss upset their flight and sent them careening into a wall where we could finish them off.

The odds had shifted so quickly. At first, we were horrified as they poured like wasps out of the ceiling after we had pulled down a sagging section of plaster. But soon, we were the predators, and when only three or four of the initial throng remained, the final kills were like a real life video game.

A single bat would peel off from the remaining group at the top of the blinking screen and come at us twisting and turning, while we, jamming the joysticks from side to side, shouted “die, you rabid bloodsuckers!” and zapped them until the screen was clean.

They could have attacked all at once and brought us down under the weight of their thousand tiny tearing jaws — that had been a possibility, we reasoned. We could have been writhing on the floor, cloaked in a brown shroud of gorging bats. But they weren’t that organized. They weren’t even attacking. They were trying to escape.

And now, looking at the tiny fox-like faces with round ears, button noses, and shiny beads for eyes we realized that WE were indeed victims. Yes, we were the victims of centuries of propaganda that changed a friendly, cute and helpful creature into a flying, bloodsucking menace.

Unlike lazy vermin that grab a snack off your kitchen counter and lay about the house, bats are hard working commuters. They go out every night and bag an average of 3,000 mosquitoes each. Great little buggers!

We’re not suggesting that you seek out and embrace all batkind. We are suggesting a balance; keep them around to eat mosquitoes but keep them out of the house.

Have you ever tried to sleep when you know there is a bat in the room? Have you ever wondered about the peculiar odor in rundown houses or vacation cottages? It could be bat guano. We’ve opened up a few walls that were packed with the stuff. Guano makes great fertilizer, but stinks as insulation.

You’re not allowed to fumigate your walls and attic because bats are federally protected migratory animals, but you can help them move to a better spot.

A good way to move bats out of your house begins by noting their points of exit. Watch the eaves for an hour before dusk, says Dana Morse of Bat and Wildlife Control Specialists in the seacoast area. Once the bats leave for the night, stuff the exits with caulk or fiberglass.

Then, build them a house of their own. Bat boxes resemble bird houses in many ways though there are a few crucial differences. The bat box is entered from below, the interior surfaces must be scratched or scored to provide a foothold for the little guys, and the interior should be smeared with a mixture of guano and water to make them feel at home.

The placement of bat boxes is also important. They should be hung 12-15 feet above the ground on a pole, tree, or house and near a permanent source of water such as a marsh or river. Nursery colonies prefer stable 80-100 degree temperatures while the bachelors like it a little cooler. Adjust the box’s temperature with either a sunny or shady location and a black heat-absorbing, or white reflective exterior.

Doug and Cynthia Edmunds are renovators from Kittery.