Harriet the hedgehog came into my life after I complained to my vet about a slug problem in my garden. The vet found Harriet, who had been nursed back to health at a wildlife hospital, and I released her into the garden to tackle the slugs. She was shy at first, scuttling off to hide as soon as she saw me.
Harriet settled in well and did her job efficiently, eating all the slugs. She slept in an old compost bag in the garden, which I lined with dried leaves. One day, while sitting on the sofa, I felt something touching my bare toes. It was Harriet, who had come in through the cat flap to examine them.
She ran off when I moved, but a few nights later, I heard a terrible noise from the landing. Harriet had come in again, climbed the stairs, and started shrieking. When she saw me, she panicked and ran into the airing cupboard, hiding 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, and by afternoon she was in it. I carried her back to the garden, but she soon returned to the airing cupboard, where she slept for the next two years.
I left water and a little dried cat food for her, though she still went out to eat slugs. I would meet her on the stairs from time to time. Once, after a few days away, I returned to find my bedroom floor covered in dead wasps. When I went to make tea, the wasps had disappeared—I suspect Harriet had eaten them.
Two years later, I went travelling and had to take Harriet back to the vet, asking that she be found a comfortable new home. Although she was never a cuddly pet, she was a big part of my life, and Harriet the hedgehog still has a corner of my heart.
