Hedgie smells terrible. To be more specific, what comes out of Hedgie smells terrible. The little creature is almost like one of those Play-Doh contraptions where you put the dough in, squeeze and sausages in various shapes flow out. In his case, dog meat goes in and nearly instantaneously appears out the other side, only ten times stinkier. How he can produce so much boggles the mind.
I looked it up online, people keep hedgehogs as pets so surely this level of stink and poo can’t be normal. Apparently it is. There is no way Hedgie will be becoming a permanent indoor fixture that’s for sure! He has been relegated to the spare bedroom but the stench creeps from under the door.
I have washed and changed his bedding three times in four days; I clean up his droppings and wipe up his wees about four times a day yet still it reeks. I retch and heave unless I hold my breath or cover my airways.
I have no idea how people keep them as pets, any vague images I had of him becoming part of the family have vanished in a haze of smelly vapours. Once Hedgie has reached his goal weight he will be going to live outside as nature intended where he can stink up the neighbourhood all he likes.
(Hedgehog watch day five)
As I was driving home from work yesterday I spotted a very small hedgehog merrily walking down the middle of the road. Thankfully my car is a tip so there was a towel on hand to wrap it in and whisk to safety. I popped him (gender is unknown but I am going with male) still curled in a ball in the towel into my garden and went inside for some dog food.
While he was wolfing down his Pedigree Little Champions homestyle beef, pasta and veges I Googled what to do. He was out in broad daylight so something was up. I found the number for NZ Hedgehog Rescue and left them a message. I then watched the imaginatively named Hedgie as he strolled along the width of the garden into a patch of (the bane of my life) vinelike weed. Hedgie seemed pretty sprightly and had eaten a meal so I headed inside.
NZ Hedgehog Rescue called me back and inquired about his size – just slightly bigger than a tennis ball when curled up. The lady informed me that he was too small to survive on his own and asked if I could take him into the rescue centre. Without a trip to the North Island on a plane I could not and thus became a hedgehog carer. I am to get his weight up to 700 grams so that he will be insulated enough to survive a Dunedin winter. Hedgehog Rescue said Hedgie was probably out searching for his Mum who was likely to be dead.
The first task was to locate him in the bushes. My dog went crazy trying to find him and I also scrabbled around, agitating the dogs who live over the back fence. When I couldn’t locate him I retired inside hoping to spot him later creeping about for more Little Champions. Sure enough, once the sun had gone down there he was, feasting.
Hedgie was bundled up and placed into his new enclosure – a plastic tub with one of the dog’s blankets shredded up and some strips of newspaper. The poor chap spent the evening trying to escape, attempting to climb the walls and, when that failed, trying again with slippery, wet, feet courtesy of his water dish.
I tried to weigh him on the bathroom scales but he was too light to register. Mr Pigalina is out of town so has not yet been exposed to the madness in person. When he is back one of the first tasks will be an official weigh-in.
(Hedgehog watch day 1)
After five years of us living in our house, the Cabbage Tree in the front garden grew a new sprout. Both Mr Pigalina and I were quite excited by this development.
Today we arrived home to find the sprout lying on the grass. It was too high for a person to reach and snap off and there was a longish white hair stuck to it. This has led me to the conclusion that the culprit is next door’s cat. Not satisfied with costing us money and sleep thanks to the beatings he dishes out to our cat in the middle of the night; he has now taken up tree vandalism!
I will attempt to plant the sprout in a pot tomorrow.
We are at an R18 punk gig with F and C bombs flying. A lady and her approximately 10 year old son just came in. I can’t decide if this is terrible or awesome parenting.
Mr Pigalina just asked me to remind him to drink a litre of water before bed as he has work tomorrow. Not me! I am sensible, I also told him LAST YEAR to book the day off.
Had some delicious noodles. Everyone eats noodles at gigs/the pub, right?
Time for dancing!
Although it was April Fools Day the Department of Internal Affairs made sure that my Citizenship Ceremony was in the afternoon – meaning it was unlikely to be an elaborate trick.
Yes, after 20 years in the country I can now officially call myself a New Zealander. (It was purely slackness on my part, it usually doesn’t take that long.)
Here is a rare glimpse of Pigalina with Mayor Dave Cull.
We headed out to the end of the Otago Peninsula to investigate what is there, as it has been many years since we did.
Pilots Beach held a wealth of seals and they were not scared of humans – sunbathing on the rocks within feet of the many people. Living at the site of one of Dunedin’s most popular tourist attractions (the albatross colony) will do that to you.
The other side revealed steep cliffs with a view of the lighthouse and numerous nesting birds. We didn’t spot any albatross but I can confirm you can see some good sights at the end of the peninsula without spending any money.
Waitangi Day and the country was on holiday. In Dunedin it rained constantly so it is a good job we have a covered stadium (take that stadium haters…). Nitro Circus came to town and they were spectacular. I didn’t get any photos of the action as I didn’t want to miss any of the action and there were plenty of other people taking shaky videos and grainy snaps.
We saw a backflip on a motorbike with four people riding it, a front flip, wheelchair backflips, triple backflips on BMX and so much more.
Mr Pigalina had pondered if two hours of flips and tricks would get a bit boring, it certainly didn’t!
(The only bit I would change was the irritating family in front – kids throwing food, oblivious dads and one drunken mother who spent the whole show taking selfies and texting.)