World War Bats

Almost since I first arrived here in my jungle abode, we have had several house guests living in the far reaches of our rafters. An invitation to inhabit our roof was never secured by these individuals. They moved in without consulting anyone, brought several family members with them, and proceeded to prove themselves to be most unwelcome. But I suppose not much more can be expected from them, since after all, they are just bats.

In the beginning, they were able to dwell in our midst with little interference. Only from time-to-time would we hear the scurrying of little feet on the rafters above us, or perhaps an occasional squeak would echo down to those of us living down below. A few times they came down to investigate those of us who occupied the lower quadrant of their building, and once I attempted to catch one of the little creatures for closer examination but he managed to escape.

As time went on however, these little creatures became more at home, and soon began to go beyond the boundaries of what is considered proper etiquette for cohabitation.

Each night, after the sun would set, and darkness hastened to settle its cloak on our jungle home, these little creatures would begin to stir from their long, hard day of sleeping. Now any normal bat knows that with night, comes the responsibility of exiting their daytime sleeping quarters and venturing forth to devour pesky insects. These bats, however, appeared to be delinquents. As night fell and they yawned and stretched, instead of leaving they found great pleasure in holding midnight rafter parties and inviting their many delinquent friends to join them.

While the rightful occupants of the jungle home below tucked in their mosquito nets and shut their eyes in an attempt to sleep, the upstairs delinquents would begin to create quite the racket. They would chatter loudly amongst themselves, and inevitably before the night was over involve themselves in loud debates that sometimes progressed to all out wing-to-wing combat. Other times, judging by the sounds issuing forth from above, I would wonder to myself if they were perhaps attempting to further populate our rafters with their offspring.

In an attempt to apologize for any inconvenience, these creatures would leave peace offerings on the floor each night for their lower neighbors to discover in the morning. But they quickly found that their offerings were not appreciated properly, so they began to leave the ungrateful individuals below even more of their presents to spite them. They would hear the other occupants mutter to themselves about the mess they were leaving below, and they even heard threats of removing them from their delightful living accommodations. But after many days of hearing such threats with nothing happening, they grew complacent and continued their nightly parties.
Then one day, the individuals who lived below decided that enough was enough and immediate action must be taken. So two of these occupants procured a ladder, a broom, and a generous helping of thorny branches and hastened to evict their unwelcome house guests.

The ladder was erected, battle lines were drawn, one climbed the ladder equipped with the broom while the other shimmied up the window and took up post in the rafters, the little creatures were surrounded, and chased toward the only exit. Despite several attempts on the part of the delinquents to hide themselves and avoid being evicted, the lower occupants prevailed.

One-by-one, the delinquent bats were spurred to hasty flight, and thorns were placed at the entrance to the roof to prevent re-population. Finally, on the other end of the roof peak more thorns were placed as well to prevent any sneak entries through back entrances.

And the lower occupants are hoping to live happily ever after, free from midnight bat squabbles, and floors covered in bat guano.