A cat? No, a bat.

What excitement we had last night!

There had been quite some cat-flap action as we were watching “Who Do You Think You Are?” and then some heavy galumphing going on upstairs, but we assumed that it was just George and Millie playing catch-as-catch-can, or some other cattyish games.

When I went to feed them all four cats were present and correct, and eager to eat their Felix (except for Bib, who isn’t so keen on tinned food. She prefers expensive pouches) so I fed them and then we went upstairs to get ready for bed. George was on our bed, but not interested in being stroked. Suddenly he leapt off the bed and I noticed something fluttering near the ceiling and then out of the door.

“Eeep! Eeep!” I squealed. “Mr FD, Mr FD It’s a bird! Eeep!Eeep!”

George and Millie were now on the landing leaping and trying to catch said fluttering thing. Mr FD emerged stark naked from the bathroom, weilding a toothbrush.

“Calm down. Don’t make a drama. I think it’s a bat.”

It was. Bat now fluttering dangerously close to overhead light, or swooping down dangerously close to over-excited cats. Mr FD opened the door to the attic/study and bat promptly flew up there, closely followed by cats and us. There was then a lot of flying around the room (a large open space) with us trying to guide it towards the now wide-open veluxes or the wide open main window, while George and Millie were leaping onto furniture trying to catch it when it was low. Finally we captured G-&-M and banished them, blocking up the cat-hole in the door so they couldn’t come back up. Then Mr FD suggested we turned off the lights in case they were confusing the creature.

After a couple of minutes straining to see if anything was still fluttering in the gloaming of the attic, we turned on the desk lamp. No sign of bat. We can only assume it had found its way out. We have no idea how it found its way in, but I suspect that the cat-flap action may have had something to do with it, as there were no windows open. I guess that one or other of the cats caught it, brought it in, let it go (thankfully apparently unharmed) and then returned to “play” with it after dinner had been served.

Our cats don’t seem to worry about bat country!

By the way, if you’re wondering the title for this blog post comes from a Monty Python sketch that, for some reason, has stuck in my brain…

Mr Smoke-Too-Much: I saw your ad in the “Bolour” Supplement.

Bounder: The what?

Mr Smoke-Too-Much: The Bolour Suppliment.

Bounder: The Colour Supplement.

Mr Smoke-Too-Much: Yes, I’m sorry, I can’t say the letter B.

Bounder: C?

Mr Smoke-Too-Much: Yes, that’s right. It’s all due to a trauma I suffered when I was a “sbool” boy. I was attacked by a bat.

Bounder: A cat?

Mr Smoke-Too-Much: No, a bat.

A LolCat? No, a LolBat!


One thought on “A cat? No, a bat.

  1. I’m researching books on teenagers for teenagers in preparation for getting one in the Spring- and at the end of one it cites Monty Python as something an erudite teenager should know about if their parents were alive in the seventies. I really must catch up on MP to keep abreast of prospective teenager!

    Bats are protected here and if you have one you have to ring the Bat Man, or Woman…

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