Harriet came into my life when I asked my vet if I could get a hedgehog to come and live in my garden and deal with the slugs. She found me Harriet in Tiggywinkles, a Buckinghamshire-based wildlife hospital. Harriet was rather shy. I brought her home in a cardboard box and put it on the ground, on its side. She poked her nose out and, as soon as she saw me, scuttled off to hide in a corner of the garden.
Harriet settled in well and did her job efficiently, eating all the slugs. She slept in an old compost bag in the garden, to which I added some dried leaves to make a bed for her. One day, sitting on the sofa with my legs stretched out, I felt something touching my bare toes. It was Harriet, examining them. She had come in through the cat flap.
She ran off when I moved, and I thought no more about it, until a few nights later, in the early hours, I heard an awful noise coming from the landing. It was Harriet. She had come in again, climbed the stairs, and then started shrieking at the top of her voice.
When she saw me, she panicked and ran into the airing cupboard, where she hid behind the hot water tank. I couldn’t get her out, so I went back to bed. The next morning, I put her compost sack in the airing cupboard. By the afternoon she was in it, and I carried her back into the garden so she could continue her slug patrol.
However, cosy as her sack was, she found the airing cupboard cosier, and was soon back behind the boiler. And there she slept for the next two years. I left water for her and a little dried cat food, though the latter wasn’t really necessary as she would go out and tackle the slugs. I would meet her on the stairs from time to time.
Once, one hot summer, I was away for a few days, leaving the Velux windows in my attic bedroom open slightly. When I got back, my bedroom floor was covered in dead wasps – they had come in, couldn’t find their way out again, and died from the heat and dehydration. What I really wanted was a cup of tea, so I left them for the time being. When I returned, they had gone – I suspect Harriet had eaten them.
Two years after she arrived, I went travelling and had to take her back to the vet. I explained that she’d had a very comfortable time in the airing cupboard and I would be grateful if she could be found an equally comfortable new home. Maybe she found a Henry hedgehog and raised some hoglets.
Although she was never a pet in the sense of liking being cuddled, or climbing on to my lap, she was a big part of my life. Harriet the hedgehog still has a corner of my heart.
