Since I’ve gotten questions about the fate of our little friend from last fall, I’m happy to report that both of “our” hedgehogs have made it through the long winter — the little one and the somewhat larger specimen above. I even saw both of them together one night but wasn’t able to take a good picture (didn’t want to blind the poor things with a flash). They’re usually not out during the day except when it is so hot that even the sleepiest hedgehog has to stop hogging his hedge for a moment to go for a drink from the bird bath.
In other wildlife news, the neighbourhood appears to have acquired at least one raccoon. Raccoons are not native here, of course, but it seems that the local population can be traced back to a fur farm that was bombed during WWII. Catching escaped raccoons was probably not very high on anyone’s list of priorities in 1945 and the critters have prospered here ever since.
While I haven’t seen the raccoon myself yet, the other night (out looking for Charlie with a flashlight), I encountered two martins who were not very pleased at my interruption of whatever they were doing and grunted at me angrily. I must say, they look quite scary in the dark, especially since they did not appear overly fazed by me, leading me to question my decision to go out in the garden dressed in a bathrobe.
And, last but not least, just when I was about to start worrying about the fox, he was spotted crossing our street road, going calmly about his business.
Walking the cat 