We chased him until he had us cornered in the living room. He landed next to the chimney above a tall bookcase that was covered with glass heirlooms. I dare not attack him with the broom I had grabbed, for self-defense. Shielded by the glassware, our intruder clung to the wall.
Then he was gone. Like magic, he just disappeared as we both watched him. Without my eyeglasses, it looked to me like he had gone down behind the bookcase.
We ended up removing the breakables and books from the bookcase, moved it away from the wall. We searched every inch of the bookcase and walls. No bat. Nothing. On close examination, we found a dime size hole in the mortar on the side of the chimney where he had landed.
The first two or three times that we looked at the hole, we just knew it was too small to be an escape route. We continued our search. No bat and no other possible exit.
We slept with the bedroom door closed that night.
I spent a portion of the next day, flashlight in hand, examining every inch of the brickwork on the chimney. I discovered another little hole to plug. These bat passageways were also escape routes for heat to get out this winter. The well-trained energy detective bat showed us where heat was eluding capture.
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