Going Batty

I have been living with bats in my house for 5 years now, and I am DONE! I guess technically I live in an apartment, or a studio? Whatever you want to call it, it’s part of a beautiful old Victorian home and the landlord rents 6 rooms out; all of us have experienced wild bat problems at least once since we’ve all been here, and one of the renters just moved in two months ago.  We have all approached the landlord about it since he is an exterminator, but he says that it’s illegal to kill bats and basically told us to deal with it – and I have, for a very long time.

I have no problem with bats at all, I understand their importance in the food chain and I appreciate them for eating mosquitos.  Actually now that I think about it, I haven’t had a mosquito bite since I’ve been living here, I only get them on vacations. BUT, ignoring that, I am at my wits end with these things sharing my apartment.  The only time there should be bats in a house is if it’s abandoned or belongs to Van Helsing; bats belong outside, period.  You might be wondering why, after 5 years of this, I am just now getting truly angry about the bat problem; well, I’ll tell you.

Early this morning, in the wee hours of dawn, I was sleeping peacefully dreaming about gumdrops and candy canes when all of a sudden, I’m awoken from my slumber by a BAT LANDING ON MY FACE!! I am not kidding! I don’t know how and I don’t know why, but I do know that I am beyond my limits of what I can take – and I also know that my landlord got an earful at 4 am this morning because of it!  I have done all that I can, but I can’t live with bats in the house any longer.  Either they go, or I do.

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