There's a bat in my pocket.

Every year in our area we get orphan flying-fox pups coming into care when their mothers are electrocuted on power lines.
The like to hang on and pee on me. They know my smell. They like to hang out in the pocket of my shirt, whether or not I'm wearing it.
I peg my shirt onto the airer so they can cuddle up to and feel secure when I'm not there.
We call the protruding feet - batty brooches.