but the bats are gone. This episode would have been worth a pit rant, but I think I’m over it now–time eases the pain. The condensed version (well, ok, not so condensed):
We knew we had bats in the attic, and had for some time, so we had an exterminator over one night at dusk. We counted well over 80 bats coming out. The very next morning, I came downstairs to let the dog out. In my half-awake stupor, I noticed something on the step in between the kitchen and the back porch. I thought to myself “that’s not quite right”–luckily the dog stepped over it and didn’t notice it. I turned on the light, spent literally a minute or two looking for something to put over it, and it barely twitched a muscle–again, I thought something’s not quite right.
We try to call Animal Control, and find out our county has no animal control–the SPCA handles that. No emergency number either. When we get a hold of them, they say they’d be happy to come down and pick it up. We just have to get it in a Tupperware container. Luckily, I’ve had extensive training in handling potentially rabid wild animals–yeah, right (amusingly, Montgomery County’s (MD) Animal Control also tells people they have to contain the animal–even the people who had a 15- or 18-foot anaconda in their back yard trying to eat their dog–don’t we pay them to do these things?). In the end, it’s tested, and has rabies. When the guy picked it up from the house, he asked if we wanted the container back 
.
I make the mistake of doing too much research (I’ve since sworn off medical research on the web), and determine that I am in fact going to die. The county health official wasn’t to concerned when I told her there was no physical contact, then proceeded to clue me in to those spelunkers who likely inhaled the virus. Now, my brain was telling me there was an extraordinarily miniscule chance that we had contracted rabies, but my brain was also telling me with an incurable fatal disease, why take a chance? Again, it’s not like we saw a bat fly out the window–we had a colony living over us for months, leaving droppings in the driveway, and had a rabid bat in the house. My doctor was reluctant to push the health department until he heard about the numbers involved (he told me a few months later that a woman in his office who broke up a fight between her dog and a raccoon had great difficulty in getting the health department to authorize the shots as well). The doctor at the emergency room was furious at the health department.
That deals with the county bureaucracy. Now we move to the State. Obviously, we want the bats out. The exterminator told us he could exclude them from the house, but they’d most likely roost on the outside of the house and nearby trees–even if he released them several miles away. That didn’t seem like an acceptable option for us, let alone our neighbors. He also informed us that the State won’t allow the extermination of bats. So I call the Department of Natural Resources. The woman responsible for bats tells me that yes, the State does prohibit the extermination of bats, and furthermore, we couldn’t exclude them from the house for two months because the babies were nursing. She also said that studies show that there’s no greater chance that other bats in the colony have rabies (I still find that very difficult to believe, since a scratch can transfer it to humans, and they hang together in clumps, but she’s the expert), and very strongly implied if not outright stated that we should just wait until the winter to bat-proof the house.
I told her that I was living in my mother-in-law’s basement, and that if the bats were paying the mortgage I wouldn’t be so concerned. Unsurprisingly, the bats weren’t paying the mortgage (maybe their check didn’t clear–I don’t know). Her boss was out, and he was the one who would have to sign the papers, so nothing could be done for a week. I asked if it would help if I spoke directly to him, and she essentially told me that wouldn’t be a good idea (in a form that I took to be a threat–there was no “or else,” but…).
After a great deal of back-and-forth, I finally get approval, if we dispose of them in a humane manner–I suggested scientific research. The exterminator sealed up the house except for one area, put a trap over it, and, rather ironically, the bats couldn’t find their way out and died in an inaccessible part of the attic. Still there–I certainly hope the virus can’t survive for long without a host, and that, say, if the roof leaks, it won’t be revived.
We don’t have rabies :), and (I hope) the story’s over. OK, a little longer than I expected.
Now, I would much prefer not to harm any living animals (well, except cows (very susceptible to rabies, by the way–the one thing about this disease I find terribly amusing), chickens, etc.). When they invade my home, however, I get concerned and feel free to take action. When they have incurable fatal diseases that could spread to my wife, child and pet, as well as myself, I’ll damn well do what I have to to get them out. A sluggish uncaring bureaucracy more concerned with a few scores of bats than living breathing humans (and taxpayers, I might add) is infuriating. And I say that as a second generation bureaucrat.
(By the way, the fact that rabies no doubt affected a few brain cells explains any inane/nonsensical posts I might have made, or will make in the future…yeah, I know, just kidding)