Altogether, at this point at least, I got 5 pledges totalling $104.34, which is roughly £50. The RSPCA could always do with a lot more, so I'll just point people at the place to make a pledge, here.
Sunday, 29 July 2007
Coming to an end
Well, that was fun. I showed you a picture of me at the start, which was taken at the start, so have another for the end, taken at the end! Sorry this one's a webcam photo.
Altogether, at this point at least, I got 5 pledges totalling $104.34, which is roughly £50. The RSPCA could always do with a lot more, so I'll just point people at the place to make a pledge, here.
Altogether, at this point at least, I got 5 pledges totalling $104.34, which is roughly £50. The RSPCA could always do with a lot more, so I'll just point people at the place to make a pledge, here.
Monitor mascots
My human supporters mostly faded away during the night, even the sister-critter who declared her intentions to stay up all night. However, Psycho Sheep and Care-in-the-Community Hippo, my monitor mascots, have been perched there all along.
They're tied together with a ribbon in case Psycho Sheep gets any ideas. ;) Although he's looking a lot saner than he did. Both of them were rescued animals, in a sense -- Psycho Sheep from a bag I hadn't looked in for years, and Care-in-the-Community Hippo from the top of a pen.
They're tied together with a ribbon in case Psycho Sheep gets any ideas. ;) Although he's looking a lot saner than he did. Both of them were rescued animals, in a sense -- Psycho Sheep from a bag I hadn't looked in for years, and Care-in-the-Community Hippo from the top of a pen.
My sister the critter
I'm running out of things to post about, so this time I really will talk about my sister, the critter. :p It's a strange being, really -- not so much nocturnal as afternoon-evening-early-morning-turnal. At the moment it's still in a strange stage between sleeping and waking -- somewhat coherent, responding to prodding, but still prone to snapping. Approach with care.
More further adventures
Other things Dad was telling me about Whisky and Herbie:
-Each, thinking they were conning the other, would eat the other's dinner.
-After Whisky's dinner, it was bathtime. First Whisky would groom himself, and then it was Herbie's turn -- and woe betide him if he tried to escape.
-Each, thinking they were conning the other, would eat the other's dinner.
-After Whisky's dinner, it was bathtime. First Whisky would groom himself, and then it was Herbie's turn -- and woe betide him if he tried to escape.
Giraffes
I've been meaning to post this since I first mentioned giraffes. Which was ages ago. xD Oops. It's been hanging around in my photobucket account patiently, so...
My friend Aasiyah brought this back for me when she went on holiday -- I think she went to see relatives, but I'm not going to embarass myself and try to guess which country. Anyway, the thing around it's neck is also from her -- she went to a different school after our GCSEs, so the giraffe's necklace is a keepsake that used to be attached to her pencilcase.
What d'you know, I'm not actually as tired anymore. I'll still go to bed early, but perhaps not until some time after dinner...
My friend Aasiyah brought this back for me when she went on holiday -- I think she went to see relatives, but I'm not going to embarass myself and try to guess which country. Anyway, the thing around it's neck is also from her -- she went to a different school after our GCSEs, so the giraffe's necklace is a keepsake that used to be attached to her pencilcase.
What d'you know, I'm not actually as tired anymore. I'll still go to bed early, but perhaps not until some time after dinner...
Rufus
I can't believe that in my dorkery about The Dark is Rising, I missed out three dogs altogether -- one of them very important. Rufus, Tip, and Pen. Rufus is the one that's important, of course; he accompanies the Drews in their adventures, though he belongs to an Old One.
"'Oh, where is he?" Barney still jigged impatiently on the dusty grey platform, glaring at the disappearing backs that masked his view. Then suddenly he stood still, gazing downwards. 'Hey - look.'
They looked. He was staring at a large black suitcase among the forest of shuffling legs.
'What's so marvellous about that?' Jane said.
Then they saw that the suitcase had two brown pricked ears and a long waving brown tail. Its owner picked it up and moved away, and the dog which had been behind it was left standing there alone, looking up and down the platform. He was a long, rangy, lean dog, and where the sunlight shafted down on his coat it gleamed dark red."
"'Oh, where is he?" Barney still jigged impatiently on the dusty grey platform, glaring at the disappearing backs that masked his view. Then suddenly he stood still, gazing downwards. 'Hey - look.'
They looked. He was staring at a large black suitcase among the forest of shuffling legs.
'What's so marvellous about that?' Jane said.
Then they saw that the suitcase had two brown pricked ears and a long waving brown tail. Its owner picked it up and moved away, and the dog which had been behind it was left standing there alone, looking up and down the platform. He was a long, rangy, lean dog, and where the sunlight shafted down on his coat it gleamed dark red."
Key-mon? Monkey!
And this would be the essential Final Fantasy reference. This, too, is about monkeys. In FFX-2, there's a sacred place that in X was the goal of a summoner's pilgrimage. The pilgrimages are no longer necessary, and the tourists are moving in...
...Until Yuna, Rikku and Paine find the monkeys, pair them up, and encourage monkey love. The monkeys multiply, and no one wants to go to the sacred place anymore.
(Except my sister. She'd probably do a lot to get to go there.)
...Until Yuna, Rikku and Paine find the monkeys, pair them up, and encourage monkey love. The monkeys multiply, and no one wants to go to the sacred place anymore.
(Except my sister. She'd probably do a lot to get to go there.)
Monkeh(s)
Nearly fell asleep and missed this one, d'oh! But I'm here. Today I bring you Barney and Bran, two PG Tips monkeys.
These we actually bought. xD They're so cute. Barney is the one with his paw in his mouth. Bran is actually for Lisa, but there's no point in my mailing him to her now. She'll just have to get him when she's here.
These we actually bought. xD They're so cute. Barney is the one with his paw in his mouth. Bran is actually for Lisa, but there's no point in my mailing him to her now. She'll just have to get him when she's here.
Dog
It figures that I would find a way to get Neil Gaiman in here a second time. This time because of Good Omens, which he cowrote with Terry Pratchett, which includes the character Dog. He's supposedly the hellhound for the Anti Christ, but nothing goes quite right in those stakes...
"'No, it's going to be the kind of dog you can have fun with,' said his Master's voice. 'Not a big dog - '
- the eye in the nettles vanished abruptly downwards -
' - but one of those dogs that's brilliantly intelligent and can go down rabbit holes and has one funny ear that always looks inside out. And a proper mongrel, too. A pedigree mongrel.'
Unheard by those within, there was a tiny clap of thunder on the lip of the quarry. It might have been caused by the sudden rushing of air into the vacuum caused by a very large dog becoming, for example, a small dog.
The tiny popping noise that followed might have been caused by one ear turning itself inside out."
"'No, it's going to be the kind of dog you can have fun with,' said his Master's voice. 'Not a big dog - '
- the eye in the nettles vanished abruptly downwards -
' - but one of those dogs that's brilliantly intelligent and can go down rabbit holes and has one funny ear that always looks inside out. And a proper mongrel, too. A pedigree mongrel.'
Unheard by those within, there was a tiny clap of thunder on the lip of the quarry. It might have been caused by the sudden rushing of air into the vacuum caused by a very large dog becoming, for example, a small dog.
The tiny popping noise that followed might have been caused by one ear turning itself inside out."
More about hedgehogs
Since hedgehogs seem to be the main feature, I thought we'd come back to them again for a while. These health tips basically come from the side of one of the food bags, except I've paraphrased them a bit. ;D
Tips for hedgehog health:
1) Let a corner of your garden go a little wild, to help the hogs feel at home.
2) Only use animal friendly slug pellets, and only when you really need to.
3) If you have a garden pond, make sure the edge is a bit of a slope or there's a ramp in there to help hogs (and other critters!) climb out.
4) Don't handle baby hogs, unless you're sure they're orphaned. If you do and they're not, their mother will abandon them.
5) If you see a hog in daylight, there's something wrong with it (hunger/thirst/hurt). If you think it's serious (i.e. not just a case of leave them to get to the water supply), call someone like the RSPCA in.
6) Leave food and water out in shallow dishes, every evening at dusk.
7) Hedgehog fleas will stay on the hedgehogs, and can't live on humans, domestic pets or home type thing like carpets and furniture. Don't spray them with dog/cat flea spray.
Tips for hedgehog health:
1) Let a corner of your garden go a little wild, to help the hogs feel at home.
2) Only use animal friendly slug pellets, and only when you really need to.
3) If you have a garden pond, make sure the edge is a bit of a slope or there's a ramp in there to help hogs (and other critters!) climb out.
4) Don't handle baby hogs, unless you're sure they're orphaned. If you do and they're not, their mother will abandon them.
5) If you see a hog in daylight, there's something wrong with it (hunger/thirst/hurt). If you think it's serious (i.e. not just a case of leave them to get to the water supply), call someone like the RSPCA in.
6) Leave food and water out in shallow dishes, every evening at dusk.
7) Hedgehog fleas will stay on the hedgehogs, and can't live on humans, domestic pets or home type thing like carpets and furniture. Don't spray them with dog/cat flea spray.
Tufty the Squirrel
Since I told you about the Tufty dance earlier, it seems only fair to talk about Tufty now. He was handmade. I remember his tail being annoying in some way in the putting-him-together stages. xD
Isn't he adorable? :D
Isn't he adorable? :D
Monkey business
My sister's favourite animals are all monkeys and chimps and things of that type. I actually took the photo of these guys quite a lot earlier on, but I didn't find a place in my rough schedule for them until here. :)
At the back and left is Monty. Next to him, and doing bunny ears behind his head, is Thomas Hug Monkey, a very debonair monkey knitted by my Nan when the Telewest adverts were popular. The red one, Schweetheart, was originally a TY beanie, and my sister has had him for a while. The last, but definitely not least, is Bocky, who has been with her since she was a day or two old.
I'll never forget what happened when she named Bocky. He was up on a shelf with some books, and she kept saying "Bock... Bock..." and I had to climb up on a chair and look at all the books for her until it finally became clear she wanted the monkey.
At the back and left is Monty. Next to him, and doing bunny ears behind his head, is Thomas Hug Monkey, a very debonair monkey knitted by my Nan when the Telewest adverts were popular. The red one, Schweetheart, was originally a TY beanie, and my sister has had him for a while. The last, but definitely not least, is Bocky, who has been with her since she was a day or two old.
I'll never forget what happened when she named Bocky. He was up on a shelf with some books, and she kept saying "Bock... Bock..." and I had to climb up on a chair and look at all the books for her until it finally became clear she wanted the monkey.
Saturday, 28 July 2007
A canine companion
Since I'm talking about loyal companions, and being an unrepentant dork, what better than to post something about this guy, from Doctor Who?
Mum insisted on having Derek the Dalek in the picture too.
Mum insisted on having Derek the Dalek in the picture too.
The further adventures of Herbie
If you've already read the posts about Herbie, you'll know what he was like. I also told you about the neighbour's cat, who had a... dispute with Herbie. But apparently there was a cat that Herbie actually got on with... name of Whisky.
According to Dad, when Whisky got into fights, Herbie would keep an eye on things. He would only intervene if Whisky was losing -- in which case he'd nip down, beat up the other cat, then step back and let Whisky finish the job.
I imagine Whisky would've been quite smug about that, in true cat style.
According to Dad, when Whisky got into fights, Herbie would keep an eye on things. He would only intervene if Whisky was losing -- in which case he'd nip down, beat up the other cat, then step back and let Whisky finish the job.
I imagine Whisky would've been quite smug about that, in true cat style.
A man's best friend
My current favourite dog to read about is the one that belongs to Neil Gaiman (or maybe Neil Gaiman belongs to him...?). Funnily enough, his name is Cabal, which is a variant of Cafall, both names for King Arthur's dog.
That's a picture Neil took of himself and Cabal, put onto photobucket so I'm not stealing his bandwidth. Neil's site is here. :D
(I'm such an unrepentant dork. First TDIR, now Neil Gaiman. I've got a Final Fantasy reference coming up, I promise.)
That's a picture Neil took of himself and Cabal, put onto photobucket so I'm not stealing his bandwidth. Neil's site is here. :D
(I'm such an unrepentant dork. First TDIR, now Neil Gaiman. I've got a Final Fantasy reference coming up, I promise.)
Mogget
Mogget is one of the characters from the Old Kingdom trilogy by Garth Nix, like the Disreputable Dog. For the most part, he's bound in the form of a small white cat, with a collar of magic around his neck, bound by one of the bells that the Abhorsen use to control the Dead. He's bound in punishment for not supporting either Orannis, a great enemy, or those who in turn bound him.
"The cat twitched and turned its head ever so slightly to look at her, revealing bright, green eyes.
'Hello, puss,' croaked Sabriel, coughing as she staggered once more to her feet and walked forward, groaning and creaking with every step. She reached down to pat the cat and froze - for, as the cat thrust its head up, she saw the collar around its neck and the tiny bell that hung there. The collar was only red leather, but the Charter-spell on it was the strongest, most enduring binding that Sabriel had ever seen or felt - and the bell was a miniature Saraneth. The cat was no cat, but a Free Magic creature of ancient power."
Whenever the collar is removed, that creature within Mogget is released, and he tries to get revenge for his years of servitude by attacking the Abhorsen. However, at the very end, Sameth releases Mogget from his bonds to give him a free choice.
"Bells rang, Yrael sang, Kibeth barked, Astarael mourned. The silver spread, and Lirael moved in closer and raised the weapon Sam had made for her from blood and sword and the spirit of the Seven in the panpipes.
Orannis spoke then, in bitter cutting tones.
'Why, Yrael?' it said, as the last of the dark gave way to silver and the shining sphere of metal sank slowly to the ground. 'Why?'
Yrael's answer seemed to travel across a great space, words trickling into Lirael's consciousness as she raised her sword still higher, body arching back, preparing for the mighty blow that must cut through the entire sphere.
'Life,' said Yrael, who was more Mogget than it ever knew. 'Fish and fowl, warm sun and shady trees, the field mice in the wheat, under the cool light of the moon. All the - '"
"The cat twitched and turned its head ever so slightly to look at her, revealing bright, green eyes.
'Hello, puss,' croaked Sabriel, coughing as she staggered once more to her feet and walked forward, groaning and creaking with every step. She reached down to pat the cat and froze - for, as the cat thrust its head up, she saw the collar around its neck and the tiny bell that hung there. The collar was only red leather, but the Charter-spell on it was the strongest, most enduring binding that Sabriel had ever seen or felt - and the bell was a miniature Saraneth. The cat was no cat, but a Free Magic creature of ancient power."
Whenever the collar is removed, that creature within Mogget is released, and he tries to get revenge for his years of servitude by attacking the Abhorsen. However, at the very end, Sameth releases Mogget from his bonds to give him a free choice.
"Bells rang, Yrael sang, Kibeth barked, Astarael mourned. The silver spread, and Lirael moved in closer and raised the weapon Sam had made for her from blood and sword and the spirit of the Seven in the panpipes.
Orannis spoke then, in bitter cutting tones.
'Why, Yrael?' it said, as the last of the dark gave way to silver and the shining sphere of metal sank slowly to the ground. 'Why?'
Yrael's answer seemed to travel across a great space, words trickling into Lirael's consciousness as she raised her sword still higher, body arching back, preparing for the mighty blow that must cut through the entire sphere.
'Life,' said Yrael, who was more Mogget than it ever knew. 'Fish and fowl, warm sun and shady trees, the field mice in the wheat, under the cool light of the moon. All the - '"
Rabid attack sheep?
Speaking of sheep, I meant to include this in the last post, with the herd. Oh well! It's nothing very much, it's just a story Dad told us about sheep who would scavenge in dust bins and get stuck. They'd go charging around... I always imagine it kind of like jousting, with the knights in armour wearing silly helmets...
I'm also reminded of the clever sheep, who, far from being deterred by a cattle grid, just roll over it. Apparently they teach their lambs to do it, too. D'oh -- back to the drawing board, farm type guys. :p
It's funny, I normally stay up late, even 'til sunrise, but I don't recall ever being up at a time when the sun shining through my window comes at just the right angle to get in my eyes.
I'm also reminded of the clever sheep, who, far from being deterred by a cattle grid, just roll over it. Apparently they teach their lambs to do it, too. D'oh -- back to the drawing board, farm type guys. :p
It's funny, I normally stay up late, even 'til sunrise, but I don't recall ever being up at a time when the sun shining through my window comes at just the right angle to get in my eyes.
Even more sheepish
My mum thought I should show you the whole "herd", so this is a picture of all the sheep we have -- minus Bronwen, who sits on my shelf and already had her chance to shine in any case.
That's all the guys, and the three main ones -- the big one in the middle is Myfanwy, and next to her are Megan and Bethan. :)
That's all the guys, and the three main ones -- the big one in the middle is Myfanwy, and next to her are Megan and Bethan. :)
A hippopotamus on our roof
When I was little, I had a book called "There's A Hippopotamus On Our Roof Eating Cake". I still have that book, of course, although I can read it for myself these days. :p
"Our roof leaks.
Drip!
Drip!
Drip!
My Daddy says there's a hole in our roof.
I know why there's a hole.
There's a hippopotamus on our roof eating cake."
"Last night, the hippopotamus told me something.
He's got a sore knee too.
There's a hippopotamus on our roof with a bandage on his knee."
"There's a hippopotamus on our roof riding a bike.
I've got a bike.
Mummy won't let me ride on the road.
There are cars on the road.
There are no cars on the roof.
He can ride anywhere.
I know he can.
There's a hippopotamus on our roof riding a bike."
"Our roof leaks.
Drip!
Drip!
Drip!
My Daddy says there's a hole in our roof.
I know why there's a hole.
There's a hippopotamus on our roof eating cake."
"Last night, the hippopotamus told me something.
He's got a sore knee too.
There's a hippopotamus on our roof with a bandage on his knee."
"There's a hippopotamus on our roof riding a bike.
I've got a bike.
Mummy won't let me ride on the road.
There are cars on the road.
There are no cars on the roof.
He can ride anywhere.
I know he can.
There's a hippopotamus on our roof riding a bike."
Once upon a hot afternoon
The last post about Scamp reminded me of the last time I really saw him active -- it might even have been the last time he was active at all. It was a really, really hot day. I was staying with Nan, without my parents or sister. That was probably the last summer I stayed on my own with Nan, too. Anyway, that afternoon we'd gone out shopping. When we got back, Scamp shot out of his bed towards us and started running up and down the living room. He was so pleased to see us! You'd think we'd left him alone for years.
It was like he was a puppy again. I threw a ball for him so many times my arm got tired.
(He was exhausted after that, of course, and lay panting for breath for a good hour afterwards!)
It was like he was a puppy again. I threw a ball for him so many times my arm got tired.
(He was exhausted after that, of course, and lay panting for breath for a good hour afterwards!)
Technical stuff
I thought it might be a good idea to talk about hedgehogs some more, to drag this blog a little more back on topic (before it veers off again, anyway). And, pretty much, when you can expect to find them.
Hedgehogs are actually nocturnal creatures, and most likely to come out around dusk. That, according to what I've read, is a good time to put some food out for them and wait. They might not come immediately, but give them chance! If they don't show up, your garden might be too hard to access for them. We've actually got a Hog Port cut in the side gate to let hogs trundle through comfortably.
Hedgehogs hibernate over the winter, so don't be surprised if you don't see one. But at the same time, if it's a mild winter they might be out and about a bit -- in which case, they'd welcome the food, especially since it'll be both harder for them to find food, and colder, so they'll need more energy to keep warm.
In spring, they'll be waking up after hibernation -- and you betcha they'll be hungry. And as spring gets on, they're going to be thinking about mating, in which case you might get visits from baby hedgehogs. In summer, if it's hot, they may also need water -- their "natural" food, such as slugs and worms, will have disappeared, so they'll still be hungry.
According to the back of the Spike's Dinner food, hedgehogs need to weigh around 500g to allow them to survive the winter. Obviously, that's a wonderful time to feed them up a bit. ;)
Hedgehogs are actually nocturnal creatures, and most likely to come out around dusk. That, according to what I've read, is a good time to put some food out for them and wait. They might not come immediately, but give them chance! If they don't show up, your garden might be too hard to access for them. We've actually got a Hog Port cut in the side gate to let hogs trundle through comfortably.
Hedgehogs hibernate over the winter, so don't be surprised if you don't see one. But at the same time, if it's a mild winter they might be out and about a bit -- in which case, they'd welcome the food, especially since it'll be both harder for them to find food, and colder, so they'll need more energy to keep warm.
In spring, they'll be waking up after hibernation -- and you betcha they'll be hungry. And as spring gets on, they're going to be thinking about mating, in which case you might get visits from baby hedgehogs. In summer, if it's hot, they may also need water -- their "natural" food, such as slugs and worms, will have disappeared, so they'll still be hungry.
According to the back of the Spike's Dinner food, hedgehogs need to weigh around 500g to allow them to survive the winter. Obviously, that's a wonderful time to feed them up a bit. ;)
More about Mum
Another short one, since I'm still having chronic computer problems -- I think I might restart before the next post. This was going to be a Herbie story, but my notes for it were in Notetab, which promptly crashed as I switched to it.
So it's about Herbie, but it's only a small thing.
My mum doesn't like dogs. She really doesn't. She didn't like Scamp much, even when he was old and slow, and she doesn't like my aunt's dog Poppy even though it's small and bouncy and fairly cute. Possibly because it's small and bouncy.
But she liked Herbie. That's, I think, though I never knew him, the sort of dog he was.
So it's about Herbie, but it's only a small thing.
My mum doesn't like dogs. She really doesn't. She didn't like Scamp much, even when he was old and slow, and she doesn't like my aunt's dog Poppy even though it's small and bouncy and fairly cute. Possibly because it's small and bouncy.
But she liked Herbie. That's, I think, though I never knew him, the sort of dog he was.
"Oh no," quoth he
After the battle that was my last entry, I bring you a short one this time. We got another picture of a hog, this time eating on the patio.
I have a mental image of the poor guy going home and logging into his computer, looking online and finding pictures of himself... "Oh no," quoth he, "the humans stalketh me!"
Er. Yeah.
I have a mental image of the poor guy going home and logging into his computer, looking online and finding pictures of himself... "Oh no," quoth he, "the humans stalketh me!"
Er. Yeah.
Cymru am byth
They may be fictional critters, but don't tell them that -- you'll see how fictional they are when they're having you for their barbeque. ;p Time for the dragons to shine, here, starting with the dragon family I mentioned before.
Desmond (top left) is the oldest, while Anwen and Idris, the two smaller ones, belong to me and my sister. :)
And this next guy belongs to my mum, though he has two oddly identical friends who live with me and my sister respectively.
Dad bought him and his friends for us when he was in Cardiff recently. Isn't he a cute little dragon?
Finally, these guys are ones I've made myself. Origami. They're made from three squares of paper, from a design that required some modifying and some input from Mum and Dad.
From left to right -- mine, my mum's, my sister's. I made them all, of course, but Mum and my sister each have one. :)
Sorry this one is a little late, as I've had pointed out to me by several people already. My computer decided to feel all of its seven years and may have been outstripped by the slowest snail on record, and now blogger is telling me my request can't be processed. Dear god, I don't have time to start over...
Desmond (top left) is the oldest, while Anwen and Idris, the two smaller ones, belong to me and my sister. :)
And this next guy belongs to my mum, though he has two oddly identical friends who live with me and my sister respectively.
Dad bought him and his friends for us when he was in Cardiff recently. Isn't he a cute little dragon?
Finally, these guys are ones I've made myself. Origami. They're made from three squares of paper, from a design that required some modifying and some input from Mum and Dad.
From left to right -- mine, my mum's, my sister's. I made them all, of course, but Mum and my sister each have one. :)
Sorry this one is a little late, as I've had pointed out to me by several people already. My computer decided to feel all of its seven years and may have been outstripped by the slowest snail on record, and now blogger is telling me my request can't be processed. Dear god, I don't have time to start over...
Nighteyes
The next fictional animal is a wolf -- and he's the second from the Farseer trilogy by Robin Hobb. Mum, who seems determined to get in up to the elbows in this blog, chose the extracts for this one, since she loves Nighteyes so much.
"I came to the animal vendor's stall, and stood face to face with myself. He was gaunt, with bleak dark eyes. He glared at me balefully, and the waves of hatred pulsing out from him washed over me in greeting. Our hearts beat to the same rhythm. I felt my upper lip twitch, as if to snarl up and bare my pitiful human teeth. I straightened my featured, battened my emotion back under control. But the caged wolf cub with the dirty grey coat stared up at me, and lifted his black lips to reveal all his teeth. I hate you. All of you. Come, come closer. I'll kill you. I'll rip out your throat after I hamstring you. I'll feast on your entrails. I hate you."
Despite this first meeting, Nighteyes is Fitz's last and most important bond companion. Fitz rescues him from being sold, and gets him up to health, intending to just let him go... but they end up bonding closer and tighter than any of Fitz's other companions. Nighteyes is with Fitz for a long, long time -- throughout the three Farseer books.
"Cold nose against my cheek. I opened my eyes. He sat there, regarding me. Cub.
Nighteyes, he corrected me. My mother named me Nighteyes. I was the last of my litter to get my eyes open. He snuffed, then sneezed suddenly."
"I came to the animal vendor's stall, and stood face to face with myself. He was gaunt, with bleak dark eyes. He glared at me balefully, and the waves of hatred pulsing out from him washed over me in greeting. Our hearts beat to the same rhythm. I felt my upper lip twitch, as if to snarl up and bare my pitiful human teeth. I straightened my featured, battened my emotion back under control. But the caged wolf cub with the dirty grey coat stared up at me, and lifted his black lips to reveal all his teeth. I hate you. All of you. Come, come closer. I'll kill you. I'll rip out your throat after I hamstring you. I'll feast on your entrails. I hate you."
Despite this first meeting, Nighteyes is Fitz's last and most important bond companion. Fitz rescues him from being sold, and gets him up to health, intending to just let him go... but they end up bonding closer and tighter than any of Fitz's other companions. Nighteyes is with Fitz for a long, long time -- throughout the three Farseer books.
"Cold nose against my cheek. I opened my eyes. He sat there, regarding me. Cub.
Nighteyes, he corrected me. My mother named me Nighteyes. I was the last of my litter to get my eyes open. He snuffed, then sneezed suddenly."
All singing, all dancing
One summer, me, my dad and my sister would go to interesting places -- wildlife type places, mostly. There was one we went to, and I think it was mostly a bird sanctuary, but it had a cage with a squirrel in it. The squirrel was absolutely frantic -- racing to one side and jumping up, racing to the other and doing the same thing, rinse and repeat...
We dubbed it "the Tufty dance" and I know I at least thought it was just that the particular squirrel we saw was mad, possibly because of the cage.
However, other squirrels have been seen doing it. Without a cage. In the middle of the road, even -- it obviously needed some lessons from those famous hedgehogs about road safety...
I've never found out whether there's any reason for squirrels doing that. Maybe they just like to puzzle us. ;)
We dubbed it "the Tufty dance" and I know I at least thought it was just that the particular squirrel we saw was mad, possibly because of the cage.
However, other squirrels have been seen doing it. Without a cage. In the middle of the road, even -- it obviously needed some lessons from those famous hedgehogs about road safety...
I've never found out whether there's any reason for squirrels doing that. Maybe they just like to puzzle us. ;)
By (sort of) popular demand...
These bears are Red and Salv; my mum asked if I would post a picture of them. Well, Salv asked me, actually, but it comes to the same thing in a way. My mum made Red herself, back in the Dark Ages. :p
I'm not sure this post is strictly speaking about animals... but they're bears, aren't they? ;)
I'm not sure this post is strictly speaking about animals... but they're bears, aren't they? ;)
The dog equivalent of a Ferrari
The title of this post is a quote from my dad, from just now when I demanded he give me stories about his dog, Herbert (Herbie), who I never knew. And it happened like this:
Herbie was a lurcher, a cross of two breeds, the names of which have already slipped out of my head. Anyway, he was a pacifist. He loved chasing things. Loved it. But when he caught something... he'd let it go. Except on one occasion.
One of the local cats was used to the old dog, who was slow and not up to much cat-chasing. It was surprised, then, when as it walked up the path it met with "the dog equivalent of a Ferrari", who had other ideas. There was an almighty noise, and Dad duly went to see what was going on...
...Only to find the cat, nine feet up from the ground, spread-eagled, holding onto the fence for dear life. And, suspended below it, Herbie, teeth in its tail.
Herbie was a lurcher, a cross of two breeds, the names of which have already slipped out of my head. Anyway, he was a pacifist. He loved chasing things. Loved it. But when he caught something... he'd let it go. Except on one occasion.
One of the local cats was used to the old dog, who was slow and not up to much cat-chasing. It was surprised, then, when as it walked up the path it met with "the dog equivalent of a Ferrari", who had other ideas. There was an almighty noise, and Dad duly went to see what was going on...
...Only to find the cat, nine feet up from the ground, spread-eagled, holding onto the fence for dear life. And, suspended below it, Herbie, teeth in its tail.
Feeling a little sheepish
A fact that I can't believe I haven't mentioned yet is the fact that my family are all Welsh. As such, we play host to a family of dragons and a herd of sheep. When I was little I was fond of my mum's sheep, Megan and Bethan, but now I have my own sheep, Bronwen. I love the googly eyes these special sheep have, seriously.
Isn't she cute?
Isn't she cute?
Secretkeepers
Scamp was my Nan's dog. I only remember him being older, and slower, and plodding, though I'm told he was more energetic at some point. I remember that I gave him one of my soft toys -- a turtle, with a secret pouch, which held 2p and a secret. I don't remember what the secret was -- the turtle got washed with the slip of paper still inside it, so when the turtle was returned to me, I couldn't read the secret -- but Scamp kept it for me. He used the turtle as a pillow.
I used to sit in the front room of my Nan's house. Sometimes, if I was gone for a while and the appropriate doors were open to let him come through, I'd be sat reading or drawing and I would hear a panting noise and there he would be. Someone always used to say that he was checking to see if I was alright. He used to lie down for a bit of a rest then, most of the time, with his head on my feet.
I wish I had a picture of Scamp to show you. I wish I could find his companion, the turtle.
I used to sit in the front room of my Nan's house. Sometimes, if I was gone for a while and the appropriate doors were open to let him come through, I'd be sat reading or drawing and I would hear a panting noise and there he would be. Someone always used to say that he was checking to see if I was alright. He used to lie down for a bit of a rest then, most of the time, with his head on my feet.
I wish I had a picture of Scamp to show you. I wish I could find his companion, the turtle.
The Casserole that wasn't
Once upon a time, there was a rabbit. And my dad caught it. My memory is fuzzy about the details, so if I'm wrong, those who know better just keep your mouths shut, okay? Anyway, so he caught a rabbit. I believe he intended to eat it, but someone begged him not to, and to keep it. Possibly my cousins. Anyway, Dad did keep the rabbit, but he named it something special in memory of why he'd caught it.
Casserole.
I don't have a photo of Casserole, but my sister's rabbits kindly agreed to pose for me. Meet: Beka the Babbit (pinkish) and Wiffle the Rabbit (yellow).
Doesn't Wiffle look distinguished, with his ears at such a rakish angle? And isn't Beka so pretty and bright-eyed? :)
Casserole.
I don't have a photo of Casserole, but my sister's rabbits kindly agreed to pose for me. Meet: Beka the Babbit (pinkish) and Wiffle the Rabbit (yellow).
Doesn't Wiffle look distinguished, with his ears at such a rakish angle? And isn't Beka so pretty and bright-eyed? :)
Nosy
There are going to be two posts about this particular trilogy, the Farseer trilogy, by Robin Hobb, but the second will come later. For now, we have another fictional dog -- this time bonded to a guy called Fitz, who is literally a bastard. Nosy was his first companion, when he was too young to understand what his power of bonding with animals was.
"Certainly I remember Nosy. His coat was red and slick and short, and bristly in a way that prickled me through my clothes when we shared the horse blanket at night. His eyes were green as copper ore, his nose the colour of cooked liver, and the insides of his mouth and tongue were mottled pink and black. When we were not eating in the kitchen, we wrestled in the courtyard or in the straw of the box-stall."
The two of them are separated for a long time, and Fitz believes that Nosy is dead. He finds him, though, later, when he himself is grown up and Nosy is old. He's also in big trouble, but you may note if you read the trilogy that Fitz always is.
"Of one other I must speak, one dragged into that conflict and intrigue only by his loyalty to me. To the end of my days I will bear the scars he gave me. His worn teeth sank deeply into my hand several times before he managed to drag me from that pool. How he did it, I will never know. But his head still rested on my chest when they found us; his mortal bonds to this world broken. Nosy was dead. I believe he gave his life freely, recalling that we had been good to one another, when we were puppies. Men cannot grieve as dogs do. But we grieve for many years."
"Certainly I remember Nosy. His coat was red and slick and short, and bristly in a way that prickled me through my clothes when we shared the horse blanket at night. His eyes were green as copper ore, his nose the colour of cooked liver, and the insides of his mouth and tongue were mottled pink and black. When we were not eating in the kitchen, we wrestled in the courtyard or in the straw of the box-stall."
The two of them are separated for a long time, and Fitz believes that Nosy is dead. He finds him, though, later, when he himself is grown up and Nosy is old. He's also in big trouble, but you may note if you read the trilogy that Fitz always is.
"Of one other I must speak, one dragged into that conflict and intrigue only by his loyalty to me. To the end of my days I will bear the scars he gave me. His worn teeth sank deeply into my hand several times before he managed to drag me from that pool. How he did it, I will never know. But his head still rested on my chest when they found us; his mortal bonds to this world broken. Nosy was dead. I believe he gave his life freely, recalling that we had been good to one another, when we were puppies. Men cannot grieve as dogs do. But we grieve for many years."
Say hello!
I've been promising hog pictures all day, haven't I? Well, thanks to Mum (hi, if you're reading this now) I've finally got one. I was going to make you all wait, but I'm pretty happy-excited about it myself, so!
He's even down at the feeding station, there. :) I hope he wasn't put off his dinner by the paparazzi.
He's even down at the feeding station, there. :) I hope he wasn't put off his dinner by the paparazzi.
Exactly why
Someone suggested I state exactly why I'm asking people to sponsor me for the RSPCA. I think I mentioned before that we had to call them in to take care of one of our little visitors, but they didn't call back when we wanted to know how he or she was doing. Maybe I'm hoping that if they get more funds, they'll ring people back more. :p
But mostly I'm just hoping that they'll take care of hedgehogs, and dogs, and cats, and any other critter that comes their way. I hear that in the wake of the recent flooding here in the UK, hogs and such critters are in need of help.
And Mum just came to grab the camera off me in the midst of my picture taking spree. Seems there's a hog at the feeding station! :0
But mostly I'm just hoping that they'll take care of hedgehogs, and dogs, and cats, and any other critter that comes their way. I hear that in the wake of the recent flooding here in the UK, hogs and such critters are in need of help.
And Mum just came to grab the camera off me in the midst of my picture taking spree. Seems there's a hog at the feeding station! :0
A good imagination
Speaking of things I've had since I was little: I've always had quite the imagination. Unfortunately, it wasn't apparently up to imagining the sheer size of giraffes -- that, or even then I was gifted in the wishful thinking stakes. Basically?
I asked for a giraffe. On being asked where I thought we could keep it, I suggested the back garden.
Ha, ha.
I asked for a giraffe. On being asked where I thought we could keep it, I suggested the back garden.
Ha, ha.
Helen Hippo
Helen the Hippo is a teddy I've had since I was about two days old. My mum's friend bought her for me and she's been with me ever since: sharing in adventures both real (going to Belgium on my own, for example) and imagined. She's had to have her fur replaced once by sewing a new suit on over her weak body, and her ears replaced twice. Her first pair of ears and her original, rather tattered ribbon are both entombed in a small box kept for sentimentality's sake. She herself went in my bag to all my GCSEs and my most important A Level exams.
As I mentioned already, she accompanied me on my trip to Belgium, which was the first time I travelled without an adult accompanying me, at the tender age of... seventeen. xP So I'm a homebody, what of it?
Anyway, Helen bravely defended me from the natives, or, well, Lisa, who wanted me to get up at such ungodly hours as before noon. I mean, really.
Said native did, however, knit her mittens and a scarf, so winning both my approval and Helen's.
Helen has, of course, inspired in me a lifelong love for hippos.
As I mentioned already, she accompanied me on my trip to Belgium, which was the first time I travelled without an adult accompanying me, at the tender age of... seventeen. xP So I'm a homebody, what of it?
Anyway, Helen bravely defended me from the natives, or, well, Lisa, who wanted me to get up at such ungodly hours as before noon. I mean, really.
Said native did, however, knit her mittens and a scarf, so winning both my approval and Helen's.
Helen has, of course, inspired in me a lifelong love for hippos.
Ladybird, ladybird, fly away home...
I was going to make a jokey post about my sister as critter, but unfortunately she's reading this, on and off, so. ;)
Instead, I have one more picture from my garden ready taken, and then I'm going to have to look sharp and find more things to take pictures of if I want to keep being interesting that way. I had no idea we had this, and less idea of what it was, but apparently it's for ladybirds and lacewings.
According to the leaflet my dad dug out about it, this thing provides a good place for ladybirds and lacewings to hibernate over the winter. Inside, there's a honeycomb structure made of insulating material to keep their little wings warm. :)
(I knew we were a nature friendly family, but wow.)
Instead, I have one more picture from my garden ready taken, and then I'm going to have to look sharp and find more things to take pictures of if I want to keep being interesting that way. I had no idea we had this, and less idea of what it was, but apparently it's for ladybirds and lacewings.
According to the leaflet my dad dug out about it, this thing provides a good place for ladybirds and lacewings to hibernate over the winter. Inside, there's a honeycomb structure made of insulating material to keep their little wings warm. :)
(I knew we were a nature friendly family, but wow.)
Buzz buzz buzz
It's surprising how little else I'm getting done. Good thing I've made no promises for today. :P Anyway, this time I'm going to talk about some less cute critters -- Red Mason Bees. I know that they're not exactly under the jurisdiction of the RSPCA, but they're still critters. I'm actually scared of bees myself, and was quite disconcerted to find that we were encouraging them in our garden, but apparently, this type doesn't sting.
According to the leaflet that came with the nester kit: "These docile bees are safe with children and pets, are excellent pollinators of fruit trees, raspberries, early strawberries and are fond of a range of flowers and tree blossom."
We've actually got this nester kit set up near "my" apple tree, and I'm pleased to note that something pollinated it well this year.
According to the leaflet that came with the nester kit: "These docile bees are safe with children and pets, are excellent pollinators of fruit trees, raspberries, early strawberries and are fond of a range of flowers and tree blossom."
We've actually got this nester kit set up near "my" apple tree, and I'm pleased to note that something pollinated it well this year.
A cunning plan
This is the first time I've come to post and not known what to write. It seems dangerously early for that, to me -- uhoh?
I can report, though, that we have a plan for taking photos of at least one hog tonight. You won't be able to see them at the feeding station, if we succeed, but we're going to put the plates on the patio near our back doors, and leave the kitchen door open, and the back light off so it won't scare them, and leave the camera near the door... That way, they'll come up to eat close to the house, and we won't actually have to go out of the kitchen to take a picture. I hope the flash won't put them off their dinners!
I might even help my dad put the food out, for once. ;)
I can report, though, that we have a plan for taking photos of at least one hog tonight. You won't be able to see them at the feeding station, if we succeed, but we're going to put the plates on the patio near our back doors, and leave the kitchen door open, and the back light off so it won't scare them, and leave the camera near the door... That way, they'll come up to eat close to the house, and we won't actually have to go out of the kitchen to take a picture. I hope the flash won't put them off their dinners!
I might even help my dad put the food out, for once. ;)
The Disreputable Dog
I actually just finished reading the Old Kingdom Trilogy by Garth Nix, so it seemed somewhat appropriate that I mention one of the two animals from that. I chose the Disreputable Dog (Disreputable Bitch, if you want to be exact), also known as Kibeth, because I prefer her to Mogget/Yrael (though expect him later).
So who is this dog? She's the true friend of Lirael: a magical, talking dog, a remnant of the beginning of the world Lirael lives in, who gave herself over to binding the world with the Charter.
"Suddenly, the dog stopped scratching, stood up and shook itself, spraying droplets of dirty water all over Lirael and all over the study. Then it ambled across and licked the petrified girl on the face with a tongue that most definitely was all real dog and not some Charter-made imitation.
When that got no response, it grinned and announced, 'I am the Disreputable Dog. Or Disreputable Bitch, if you want to get technical. When are we going for a walk?'"
So who is this dog? She's the true friend of Lirael: a magical, talking dog, a remnant of the beginning of the world Lirael lives in, who gave herself over to binding the world with the Charter.
"Suddenly, the dog stopped scratching, stood up and shook itself, spraying droplets of dirty water all over Lirael and all over the study. Then it ambled across and licked the petrified girl on the face with a tongue that most definitely was all real dog and not some Charter-made imitation.
When that got no response, it grinned and announced, 'I am the Disreputable Dog. Or Disreputable Bitch, if you want to get technical. When are we going for a walk?'"
A little unstable
The blackbirds aren't the only guests in our garden, of course. We also play host to blue tits, come nesting time, when they don't find anywhere they prefer in the pseudo-countryside around here. We have a special birdbox for them, against the wall in the midst of our plum tree.
Of course, the blackbirds come into this story, too. Once upon a time, we found them nesting on top of that birdbox -- on the sloping roof. So my dad built a special platform for them, in the same place, but a bit above so they wouldn't scare the blue tits.
They have yet to use it, as far as I know. They still far prefer the sloping roof. Le sigh.
Of course, the blackbirds come into this story, too. Once upon a time, we found them nesting on top of that birdbox -- on the sloping roof. So my dad built a special platform for them, in the same place, but a bit above so they wouldn't scare the blue tits.
They have yet to use it, as far as I know. They still far prefer the sloping roof. Le sigh.
More about the mad
Oddly enough, considering our tenants, my mum is a psychiatrist. She can't seem to do anything about the blackbirds, though, despite claiming to be oh so good at her job. ;P
Sometimes, our blackbirds think they're ducks. They sit on the fountain. Mr. Mad even did it in the rain. They're extremely territorial about it, though -- other birds who want to get to the fountain, beware! Fortunately (for other birds, and for my amusement's sake) the birds are relatively dumb, and other birds come along, and while some distract the pair, the others get their bath/drink -- and then switch places.
Strangely enough, for a bird with flight, Mr. Mad doesn't actually fly much. We're not sure whether this is because he's always soaking wet, or whether he thinks he's a mole -- I did see him trying to dig, once upon a time.
Sometimes, our blackbirds think they're ducks. They sit on the fountain. Mr. Mad even did it in the rain. They're extremely territorial about it, though -- other birds who want to get to the fountain, beware! Fortunately (for other birds, and for my amusement's sake) the birds are relatively dumb, and other birds come along, and while some distract the pair, the others get their bath/drink -- and then switch places.
Strangely enough, for a bird with flight, Mr. Mad doesn't actually fly much. We're not sure whether this is because he's always soaking wet, or whether he thinks he's a mole -- I did see him trying to dig, once upon a time.
Water hole
One of the best things about our garden is probably, from both my point of view and the animals', the fountain. My poor dad recently had to drag it all up and clean/fix it, because my mum was worried the hedgehogs would fall into the pit underneath and not be able to get out. I'm told they can swim, but my dad is resisting my suggestions that he build a hog swimming pool...
Anyway, this is the fountain.
At night, the hogs have been known to climb up there for a drink and a bit of a wash. In the day, however, it's the rightful territory of a pair of blackbirds dubbed Mr. and Mrs. Mad.
And yes, they are pretty crazy.
Anyway, this is the fountain.
At night, the hogs have been known to climb up there for a drink and a bit of a wash. In the day, however, it's the rightful territory of a pair of blackbirds dubbed Mr. and Mrs. Mad.
And yes, they are pretty crazy.
Cafall
People who know me already must be expecting this post. ;) I'm a devoted fan of "The Dark Is Rising" sequence by Susan Cooper, and it's pretty predictable that I find a way to talk about it.
There are three dogs in TDIR, of course: Raq and Ci, Will's dogs, and Cafall, Bran's dog. My favourite is the latter, since we see more of him. He's described as "a white dog, white all over with only one small black patch on its back, like a saddle. Except for the curious pattern of colouring, it looked like a traditional Welsh sheep dog, muscular and sharp-muzzled, with feathered legs and tail: a smaller version of the collie."
He's extremely loyal to his master -- as all fictional dogs seem to be! -- and ends up dying for the cause, chasing strange creatures that belong to the enemy. He keeps Bran company when he has no other friends, and goes into danger willingly.
"Bran was on his knees by the dog, sobbing, cradling the white head on his lap. He called desperately to Cafall, fondling his ears, dropping his cheek just once, in longing, to rest against the smooth neck. But there was nothing to be done."
So, here's to Cafall. <3
There are three dogs in TDIR, of course: Raq and Ci, Will's dogs, and Cafall, Bran's dog. My favourite is the latter, since we see more of him. He's described as "a white dog, white all over with only one small black patch on its back, like a saddle. Except for the curious pattern of colouring, it looked like a traditional Welsh sheep dog, muscular and sharp-muzzled, with feathered legs and tail: a smaller version of the collie."
He's extremely loyal to his master -- as all fictional dogs seem to be! -- and ends up dying for the cause, chasing strange creatures that belong to the enemy. He keeps Bran company when he has no other friends, and goes into danger willingly.
"Bran was on his knees by the dog, sobbing, cradling the white head on his lap. He called desperately to Cafall, fondling his ears, dropping his cheek just once, in longing, to rest against the smooth neck. But there was nothing to be done."
So, here's to Cafall. <3
New extreme sport?
One of the most endearing things about the hedgehogs in our garden is that we've actually seen them playing. There was a pair that came together, and they danced around each other in our garden and so on -- presumably a mating ritual of some type, since babies were had and duly brought to visit. ;)
But the best bit is when they play with the saucers we give them their food on. It's a family debate over whether they're playing, or just stupid -- but me and my mum strongly believe they're playing, and not just trying to get to the other side of the dish, because they do it with empty, cleaned off plates.
(There's also a theory that they're simply trying to steal the saucers, since they dragged one to the special Hog Port my dad cut in the gate for them. It's possible that they think the saucers are magically refilled and simply wanted to move them somewhere more convenient.)
Basically, they... surf, using the saucers. They push them onto the lawn, climb mostly on, tipping the saucers, and off it goes. It also works on gravel, though I suspect damp grass is most fun. It's difficult to describe -- if we catch them doing it, I'll try and get some video. :D
But the best bit is when they play with the saucers we give them their food on. It's a family debate over whether they're playing, or just stupid -- but me and my mum strongly believe they're playing, and not just trying to get to the other side of the dish, because they do it with empty, cleaned off plates.
(There's also a theory that they're simply trying to steal the saucers, since they dragged one to the special Hog Port my dad cut in the gate for them. It's possible that they think the saucers are magically refilled and simply wanted to move them somewhere more convenient.)
Basically, they... surf, using the saucers. They push them onto the lawn, climb mostly on, tipping the saucers, and off it goes. It also works on gravel, though I suspect damp grass is most fun. It's difficult to describe -- if we catch them doing it, I'll try and get some video. :D
Hedgehog hotel
We actually think that one of our hedgehogs stayed the winter with us -- or at least parts of it. This was due to another thing my clever dad built: a hedgehog hotel. We actually have two -- one in the front garden, one in the back.
That's a picture of the one in the back -- the one in the front was too hard to get to and all you'd've seen was a roof.
My dad found the plans for the hedgehog hotels at this site (which is why this post was delayed a little: I called him inside to find the link). The thing that really amuses me is that it tells you what council tax band the design would fall into. Win!
Also, slightly related -- someone else is fearing obscurity, so, hi there, Andrew! He's blogging for the Southern California Bulldog Rescue, here.
That's a picture of the one in the back -- the one in the front was too hard to get to and all you'd've seen was a roof.
My dad found the plans for the hedgehog hotels at this site (which is why this post was delayed a little: I called him inside to find the link). The thing that really amuses me is that it tells you what council tax band the design would fall into. Win!
Also, slightly related -- someone else is fearing obscurity, so, hi there, Andrew! He's blogging for the Southern California Bulldog Rescue, here.
Feeding time at the zoo
We've always had hedgehogs in our garden, but it's only lately that we've had regular visitors. And I do mean regular: there's one we dubbed the "Nine O' Clock Hog", or "Mr. Nine O' Clock", because every day he turned up, around nine, to get dindins.
So what do we feed them? We have both meat-based and veg-based food for them -- Spike's Dinner, a chicken-based food, and Wildthings hedgehog food, which is the veg-based one. You can order these foods, and get more information, from Spike's World.
There're also other things they like, apparently -- dried banana is a favourite, and apparently they're fond of raw minced beef (rather them than me, certainly!). Cat food is okay for them, too, and currants, but they don't tend to like fresh fruit. And bread and milk is actually bad for them, so don't even consider it. :)
We've made a "feeding station" for ours, to prevent local cats and such eating the food -- though the blackbird (you'll hear more about him later) likes the leftovers. My dad made the feeding station, of course, and it's low enough to do the job, but high enough that our spikey friends can get under it.
(Also -- I'm in the process of getting my mum to lie in wait for the hogs tonight and take some photos. Fingers crossed!)
So what do we feed them? We have both meat-based and veg-based food for them -- Spike's Dinner, a chicken-based food, and Wildthings hedgehog food, which is the veg-based one. You can order these foods, and get more information, from Spike's World.
There're also other things they like, apparently -- dried banana is a favourite, and apparently they're fond of raw minced beef (rather them than me, certainly!). Cat food is okay for them, too, and currants, but they don't tend to like fresh fruit. And bread and milk is actually bad for them, so don't even consider it. :)
We've made a "feeding station" for ours, to prevent local cats and such eating the food -- though the blackbird (you'll hear more about him later) likes the leftovers. My dad made the feeding station, of course, and it's low enough to do the job, but high enough that our spikey friends can get under it.
(Also -- I'm in the process of getting my mum to lie in wait for the hogs tonight and take some photos. Fingers crossed!)
Reasons
The reason I decided to do this for the RSPCA was because of some small visitors to our garden -- hedgehogs. There are many other visitors to our garden, of course, but hedgehogs are the main feature at night.
They've resisted all attempts at getting photos (they're a bit camera shy, it seems), so here's a picture of the stone one that lives by our fountain. :p
He's been there a few years now, so his features are a little indistinct.
Anyway, we actually had cause to call out the RSPCA for one of the little guys. We saw him one morning, outside, limping up our garden path -- I don't blame him for limping in any case, that gravel had to have been murder on his feet. After observing him for a while, we decided there was definitely something wrong, and my dad went to get him. We kept him in the shade, in a box, with a towel, and called the RSPCA urgently.
When they came, quite some time later, they took him away. The lady said his foot was hurt, but she couldn't see anything wrong with him, and they'd just keep him a while to make sure he got better. And thus we rejoiced.
(If you're looking for a happy end, though, you'll be as disappointed as we were. As far as I know, the RSPCA never let us know how he was doing, even when my mum called to ask.)
They've resisted all attempts at getting photos (they're a bit camera shy, it seems), so here's a picture of the stone one that lives by our fountain. :p
He's been there a few years now, so his features are a little indistinct.
Anyway, we actually had cause to call out the RSPCA for one of the little guys. We saw him one morning, outside, limping up our garden path -- I don't blame him for limping in any case, that gravel had to have been murder on his feet. After observing him for a while, we decided there was definitely something wrong, and my dad went to get him. We kept him in the shade, in a box, with a towel, and called the RSPCA urgently.
When they came, quite some time later, they took him away. The lady said his foot was hurt, but she couldn't see anything wrong with him, and they'd just keep him a while to make sure he got better. And thus we rejoiced.
(If you're looking for a happy end, though, you'll be as disappointed as we were. As far as I know, the RSPCA never let us know how he was doing, even when my mum called to ask.)
Good afternoon!
Hey, guys. Time to get started and I have no idea what I'm going to say. :D Clever.
Well, I'm going to start off by showing you a picture of me, so if you don't already know me, you can see what I look like. My dad took the picture last night while I was taking other photos I'm going to show you. Technically it's supposed to have something animal-related in it, but this came out better than the one that did. Oops.
I suppose you could say this is animal related -- in that my hair appears to have a life of its own. ;)
Well, I'm going to start off by showing you a picture of me, so if you don't already know me, you can see what I look like. My dad took the picture last night while I was taking other photos I'm going to show you. Technically it's supposed to have something animal-related in it, but this came out better than the one that did. Oops.
I suppose you could say this is animal related -- in that my hair appears to have a life of its own. ;)
Sunday, 22 July 2007
I cannot rest tonight
Uh, hey! I've created this blog for the purposes of the Blogathon, which I'll be taking part in for the first time this year. I probably won't update it after that, except maybe for the blogathon next year! I chose the URL and title from a song by Kate Rusby -- who I saw in concert last night -- "Sho Heen", which contains the lyrics: "I won't close my eyes 'till the morning light/Oh bring on the sun I cannot rest tonight". Appropriate, see?
Anyway, for the blogathon I'm planning to post about animals -- appropriate, since my chosen charity is the RSPCA (The Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals). I have some real animal stories I'm going to tell you, and then I imagine there'll be bits about fictional animals, and about people I know who love animals when I'm starting to run out of steam. ;)
You can sponsor this blog here.
Anyway, for the blogathon I'm planning to post about animals -- appropriate, since my chosen charity is the RSPCA (The Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals). I have some real animal stories I'm going to tell you, and then I imagine there'll be bits about fictional animals, and about people I know who love animals when I'm starting to run out of steam. ;)
You can sponsor this blog here.
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