The tenants called. There are bats everywhere in the Vineyard house. The men of their family are away, and the ten women and babies are not up to shooing bats with brooms. The animal control warden, called by the tenant, exhorted them to abandon the house. There aren't a lot of places to seek refuge in the high season of August. Odd things happen whenever this family rents the house. The caretaker helpfully asked them why they keep coming back.
Replacing the ajar attic hatch would not be too much to expect from a caretaker. But alas, ours has a bum leg and will not climb a ladder. Reputable repairmen, (though not apparently animal control agents), are loathe to wait in ferry lines to come over to Chappy. Obama is at the other end of the Vineyard but appears to jam traffic at our end as well. We called everyone who has worked on the house with its storied past but no one can get there for 'weeks'.
One sister in-law thought we should explain what a vital role bats play in the environment. Did I mention that one of the tenants had previously been bitten by a rabid bat?