Bog Myrtle & Peat

You can’t beat a melodramatic title. In truth, nothing was attacked and the bat in question has been safely released into the wild. That said, today has not been without incident.

It was a grim morning, but by the time I had got up and done the worst of today’s work, it was looking a little brighter. I went out to see the ferrets and issued them with a whole pork kidney to nibble away at their leisure, then turned round to the massive blue paddling pool which I sometimes use to throw a shadow on the ferret cage when it’s very hot. It was almost an inch full of water, and in the far corner, a large dead maple leaf caught my eye. With some horror, I noticed that it was moving. As I stepped closer, I saw that it was not a leaf at all, but that it was actually a large bat wriggling around in the water.

I normally love bats, but this one was different. Everything about it seemed foul and nightmarish; its movements were sluggish and unnatural and its hair was matted together in thick clumps. I had to overcome some fairly nauseous feelings before I came to terms with the fact that I was looking at a drowning animal and it needed to be rescued. Grabbing it with a towel, I slung it into an old box and put it in the shed to warm up a little.

By evening, the devilish creature had undergone a transformation. Cautiously opening the cardboard flaps to inspect  the convalescing bat, I noticed that his fur had dried into a shiny chestnut brown and that he had taken on the appearance of a pathetic, wizened old man. Also, I couldn’t help seeing that he was far larger than any British bat I have ever seen before. After searching online for more information, I found that he was a noctule bat, Britain’s biggest bat species. The little bugger was rattling around inside his box, so I put on a thick glove and took him out into the dusk.

Other bats whirled around high overhead as I let him crawl onto my wrist and stretch out his wings, one by one. Then, with a sudden clatter, he took to the air. Flying at about head height right around the house, he did one final jinking turn and vanished altogether. Bats are brilliant, and I was delighted to have saved this one. Just don’t ask me to handle a wet bat again…