Introducing our other pet

For the last several summers, our deck umbrella has housed a bat. Here is a picture of him. We've liked to think that it's the same bat returning every summer -- *our* bat, who we named Boris -- even while we've assumed that it's probably a different bat each year and Boris was just a cute fiction. (Sort of the way that, when kassrachel and I shared our first apartment, we liked to think that we had only one cockroach living with us. Because we only ever saw one at a time. So we called him Gregor, and chose to believe he was the only one, as this was a pleasanter notion than the likely alternative.)

Well. Thursday's mail brought a small package addressed to D from the Bat Conservancy. It contained two copies of a full-color book called Know Your Bats, or something like that, with photos and plentiful information about different bat species and their habits. The books weren't gift-wrapped, and there was no gift message included in the package. (D's birthday is today -- happy birthday, sweetie! -- so we were inclined to assume this was a present from somebody or other. Although I liked the idea that Boris just wanted us to know more about him.) The plot thickened on Friday, when UPS delivered a large box from the Bat Conservancy containing a spiffy wooden bat house. Again, no gift-wrapping or note; just a pamphlet filled with suggestions about where to hang the bat house, and what color to paint it (bats are partial to black, apparently), and how to make it most hospitable to our bat friends.

Which only went to strengthen my suspicion that Boris had gotten online somehow and ordered stuff for himself. (He'd had it addressed to D to avoid confusion; otherwise the packages would have been addressed to "Boris, Inside the Umbrella, The Back Deck, Savoy.") First he wanted to tell us about himself; then he wanted us to offer him a swankier residence. Meanwhile we've learned from the book that what we'd thought was a cute fiction is probably true; Boris is a Big Brown Bat (I never thought he was that big, but that's the actual name), and Big Brown Bats typically live around 20 years and are very loyal to their roosting places, returning year after year. Females roost in groups, males alone. So evidently we *do* have a pet bat, and Boris is a perfectly apt name for him. And it's very possible he didn't want the house for himself, but for his lady friends.

It ultimately turns out that D's parents sent this stuff. Which is sweet of them, if a little odd, and I admit to being slightly disappointed. (I'd kind of hoped today's mail would contain "bat yummies" or some such, as Boris got bolder.) Still, it's cool to know that we do, in fact, have a second resident furry critter. And this one isn't even allergic to us!