Bats in my belfry

By MARY BETH WEISENBERGER

As a country dweller, I am intimately familiar with the multitude of critters that take up residence on my property. I’m accustomed to (though not on especially friendly terms with) field mice, chipmunks, rabbits, deer, raccoons and even the occasional ‘possum. Thanks to my tom-boyish upbringing, I tolerate spiders (if you don’t count the big hairy kind) and have been known to call a mouse “cute” (as long as it isn’t darting out from under my feet. Then I use other words to describe it.) All in all, I am comfortable, if not resigned to, sharing my space on the planet with all God’s creatures, big and small.

Except for one: Bats.