I am looking after next door’s hedgehog. They found him first in the corner of their greenhouse and watched him toddling off down the garden. Then realised he (she? – I will say he for short)(argue amongst yourselves about centuries–old diminution of females)(don’t get me started, not right now) was far too small to survive hibernation just yet. So, after some research, they’ve gone and bought a huge guinea–pig cage (biggest they could find short of monkey cage which wasn’t available at pet shop) and collected leaves for him to sleep in. So he’s in their dining room but they’ve had to go on a holiday pre–booked before this emergency. So I’m caretaker. He’s called Tiggs, in honour of Tiggywinkles website where they got most of their advice.
They also have three cats, two of whom are home but the third is epileptic and is in special kennels for the duration. Oh and they have tropical fish. This is a huge responsibility for me. They adore their fish. I know naff all about keeping them. I am trying to remember every little detail about their welfare. And so I’ve started this diary for my neighbours to read when they get back from an isolated cottage on the west coast of Scotland. And you might as well share it!
Hedgeblog, why not.
Hedgeblog, why not.
October 26th
Get your text message about the tv plugs (about half an hour after you sent it) and go round to unplug them straight away. No problem.
Find note to say a parcel has been left for you in the greenhouse. Turns out to be a pair of parcels in silver wrapping, carefully stuffed under the bottom shelf in the far corner. Back in the kitchen, Charlie is asleep on a chair, and Archie is absent as usual.
As part of the current mega-task, sorting out my blue room, spend hours throwing out newspapers for the paper bank. I keep some back for Tiggs, and he’s going to be ever so excited when he gets the Herald Tribune tomorrow morning, so he can have a New-York-style Sunday-type lie-in reading it and singing “How do you like your eggs in the morning ……?” It’s out of date of course, but I doubt he’ll mind.
In the evening, I do all the feeds, and feel as though I’m underfeeding the fish, which probably means I’ve got it about right. Tiggs is quiet, and his paper underneath is dry, so I leave it.
He gets some food on the top of the inside green shelter, and a few bits of dry hedgehog food, plus some dried banana which fell out of the packet. The rest of the fresh bowl and fresh water I put into the same corners he’s used to, and when I pop back at 9 pm to check on him, some food on the ground floor has been eaten, so I’m happy.
By the way, he had eaten nearly all the food you’d left him – just some smeared crumbs left in the dish. (That puppy food does mash up nicely with water, doesn’t it ?)
This afternoon I collected decent quality leaves in my garden, and have them drying off in a bucket, the beginnings of a serious collection for him.
And Archie spent his afternoon sitting on the garage roof, and the last time I saw Charlie she was staring at me from the other side of the cat flap, waiting politely for me to leave the premises.
As for the fish, they swam around and tried to look busy, but they don’t fool me. I know as soon as my back’s turned they revert to their lazy “just hangin” mode. Huh.
October 27th
Charlie was in her basket when I went in this morning, and immediately went out. Archie came to stand silently on the fence and stare at me, while I righted pots which had blown over in the wind last night, and opened the right hand greenhouse door a couple of inches, as it’s going to be a nice day (and for the same reason, I’ve drawn the dining room curtains to protect second fish tank). Archie did get stroked for a minute, which was nice.
Charlie was undecided, sitting two feet away from me on the back door bench, and eventually walked off down the garden.
Into the dining room.
Glory be, what a mess. Very reassuring, in fact, after he was so quiet yesterday. Not only had he eaten all his food except a tiny bit in the upstairs dish, but he’d been PARTYING. He must have had all his friends round because it is impossible for one hedgehog to relocate so much food in so little time. Bowls shoved around, food from upstairs dragged downstairs, food from downstairs daubed up the steps, and believe or not food hurled at the wall at the height of the fun. He’d even had some of his dried banana. I put him into the red side–crate and put some shredded paper over him, in the manner of a comfort blanket. While I took the green roof thing to the sink to wash and dry it thoroughly, he amused himself pretending to be a pile of paper walking round in circles.
After he was all put back, he had a sip of water and went to bed, and all was quiet again. I’m sure he’s bigger than the other night.
I kicked the catlitter tray, and a handful of litter flew across the floor. Couldn’t see a dustpan (except outside) so went for the other solution. Now that is what I call a vacuum. Like driving Space Lab. (I’ve been to the NASA place in Washington DC so I consider myself an authority on these things.) It took until today to realise that I didn’t need to find white plastic bags under the sink, and that you’d left everything I could possibly want in the dining room …. wally. I keep the opened puppy food in the pantry behind a closed door, so there’s no danger of Charlie getting hold of any, allergic and all as she is to wet food.
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