The Hedgehog

As you know we wage a never-ending war against possums, rats, rabbits, etc. And the humane cage I talked about earlier has been great for catching these destroyers of vegetables and fruit and roses.

But now it has reached into unknown territory. The above photo is of its latest victim – a hedgehog. A hedgehog, moreover, with a taste for roses. The picture below is of my prized coffee-colored rose bush at half its size from the night before. The hedgehog was caught by the trap which had been placed right next to the roots of the rose.

The problem is that I am a product of my times and so is Dan. We were both avid readers of the Mother West Wind series of children’s books when we were children ourselves.  Said books included stories of cuddly, cute little, you guessed it, hedgehogs!

As if that weren’t bad enough. Beatrice Potter took my heart with her hedgehog stories and drawings. Unfortunately for me, and fortunately for the trapped hedgehog, I have been reading these stories to my grandchildren.

The upshot is that neither Dan nor I could bear the thought of killing this cuddly little rose destroyer. 

So Dan lugged the cage down to the quarantine paddock which backs on a bit of wood and freed the hedgehog. Was she grateful? Did she sprint gleefully for greener pastures/wood? Nope. She remained stubbornly in the cage refusing to move.Time passed but she didn't. Finally Dan dumped her unceremoniously out on the ground and left her. My little Mother West Wind reader has grown up. I wouldn’t want to be the next hedgehog we catch.

This is a view of the market garden early, early in the morning. I had gone down there to do one of my periodic snail sweeps. Imagine my surprise when I found nary a single shell! I remember the first sweep when I captured (and fed to the chickens) well over 400 of the little devils. I assume the chickens remember it as well.

So I wandered puzzled through the garden and its surrounds until I was startled (I almost had a heart attack) by Harvey the Duck. First off, I had forgotten all about him. Second, I had assumed that after all his traumas he had scampered off to foreign climes. Well, there he was larger than life. I mean that literally. He is huge. I know where all the snails have gone and probably every other living creature in the area. 

He was not pleased to see me but he is so obese that I could have grabbed him before he waddled off into the brush if I had not been so surprised. As it was he made his getaway and I have taken ‘snail hunting’ off my calendar. No need for any more early morning raids.

Just for the fun of it, I have included 2 pictures of tomato plants. The first is planted over the carcass of a possum. The others were possum-deprived. Yet another reason for those possum traps.

Til next time!