The Sunday before Christmas Trey and I were casually chatting by my parents' hearth. Davis was down for bed. Addison was playing happily in the living room. The rest of the family was at evening church. All of a sudden out of the corner of our eyes Trey and I simultaneously spotted something crawling along the inside of the fireguard. My first reaction was that it was a mouse, then a rat, but it was clearly too big for a mouse and lacked a tail. We then realized we were dealing with a bat that had no doubt found its hapless way down the chimney flu. My first, and obviously sane reaction, was to freak. Trey was far more levelheaded than I. My dad is the king of removing unwanted animals, so I knew he would know what to do. Sadly, he was not reachable by cell phone as the service was just about to start. I left a message, and then Trey and I set about the task of containment. Trey popped the screen a few times so that the bat took refuge on the back wall of the hearth. We then used clear packing tape to tape the firescreen to the brick hearth, preventing any possibility of escape. Then we placed the coffee table against it for added security. Addison was fascinated by it all and wanted us to "kill it."
When my parents got home, Mom and I found peaceful "safety" in an upstairs closed bedroom. Trey helped my dad with the removal, which was as simple as opening the firescreen slightly and enclosing the bat in a towel. The bat was then freed outside. Whew! So I have learned that the bravery of delivering a child in your living room does not translate into the bravery of animal removal. That's fine by me.