They're supposed to hibernate with just the occasional sortie to gather food - but this winter they don't know whether they're coming or going.

The numbers counted at hibernation roosts are well down on last winter. Already in mid-February there were frequent flyers leaving the roosts at dusk.

I was talking to someone on the phone as I sat in a window seat. Concentrating on my conversation, I glanced down at the window-catch and noticed a sizeable cobweb. When I tried to brush it away it moved. It was a small bat.

At first I thought how cute it was, and left it to snooze until night time. But when I looked the following morning it was in exactly the same position, upside down on the window ledge with its head buried behind the latch.

Was it alive? It barely moved when I touched it. What to do? I know these beautiful creatures live for 21 years or so. I looked on the web for the local bat group and phoned for advice. I explained that the bat was at death's door.

Sarah Cartmel of the Gwynedd Bat Group couldn't visit until the afternoon, so I was given advice on what to do in the meantime. Basically - try and give it some water and keep the dog away!

I put some drops on an in-between-the-teeth brush and offered it to the bat. It looked dazed, confused and pathetic. You could see its little tongue coming out to sip away. After it had had its fill it then groomed its wings.

By the time Sarah arrived the bat was back in hibernation on the windowsill. It looked so weak and feeble, I told her I thought it hadn't long to go. She picked it up and examined it.

The wings were carefully unfolded and checked for rips and the bones for breaks but all looked sound. The rest of the body also looked fine.

All this young Pipistrelle needed was to be returned to a suitable hibernation place out of reach of our dog, away from the children and central heating. I was given my instructions.

As dusk fell I picked up the bat, wearing gloves of course, and held it within cupped hands. After about 30 minutes the bat started to vibrate as its body warmed up and it came back to life. It was very alert now with its eyes scanning the room.

I took it outside and let it climb onto my forearm. First the left wing was extended fully and retracted, then the other wing. A brief pause, a final backward glance, and then it fluttered up into the trees. I wonder if we'll recognise each other next time we meet?

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