Saturday, August 18, 2012
God's Wee Creatures
“Saints deliver us!” Rollie stared at the tip of his scythe,
wondering at the blood that streaked the blade. “What ever have I done? Musta
kilt something there in the weeds.”
My heart plummeted. This was to be
a happy day, one where I instructed Rollie as we cleared a patch of fescue and
knee high meadow grass, from a spot destined to be a vegetable garden. Or so I
had hoped. Instead, an unlucky animal must have fallen victim to the deadly
circular motion of Rollie’s rhythmic slices.
He took a dingy handkerchief from
his pocket to wipe the tool as he turned sad eyes to me, the milky circles
around his brown irises a sure sign of his advancing age. “’Tis a shame, ain’t
it?”
“What manner of animal might it be?
Can you be certain it does not suffer?” A chill overcame me as I cast my
thoughts back to my last glimpse of Mephisto, my black cat, as he carefully
licked his paws while sitting in his basket near the kitchen fireplace.
“Aye, I plan to search for the
varmint, but I thought to warn you to avert your eyes. This won’t be a pretty
sight. Not near.” So saying, he dropped to his knees and parted the tall blades
of grass, a forestation thick enough to hide his head and shoulders as he
crawled away from me.
My fingers bothered the hem of my
shawl as I watched and waited. What would he find? Only last week, a hunting
party loosened a ferret in these fields. With guns trained on the burrows, men
from the surrounding farms waited until the ferret flushed out the family of
rabbits. A portion of the kills came to us, here at Ferndean Manor. I watched
as Cook deftly slipped a knife under the still warm flesh and drew a line from
under the chin to the tail of each. With a practiced snap, she broke the legs
and peeled the skin away. That night we ate several that had been braised,
while Cook put two into a pot with carrots, onions, and turnips for a stew to
be eaten the next day. If Rollie had hit a rabbit, at least it would not go to
waste.
First reaching up and doffing his
cap, Rollie fussed around in the thick of the grasses. Then, he backed out of
the tunnel he’d created in the brush, moving slowly on his knees whilst his
right hand held his cap containing his quarry. Struggling
to maintain his balance, he rose to his feet and presented me with this gift,
much like a priest offers communion to a supplicant at the altar rail. “See? ‘Twas
the mother that I kilt, and there’s no hope for her, but these wee ones, must
be, I dunno, four weeks old or so? I can drown them, but they eat bugs, ma’am.”
I peered down onto three squirming
bodies, lifting their tiny snouts to me, blinking in the sun, and seeking their
mama. “Hoglets,” I marveled. “Baby hedgehogs. Three of them.”
Running a finger over their tiny
spines, I fell in love with their bright button eyes.
“Iff’n you don’t take them inside and
wrap them in a flannel, they’ll die of the cold and exposure. Them quills don’t
hold much heat,” Rollie said. He smiled at me. “You’ve got a kind heart, ma’am,
if you don’t mind me sayin’ so. But if they’re a bother—”
“No, no. They’re God’s own creatures.
What shall I feed them?” Extending my own cupped hands, I waited as he
transferred his cap and contents into my possession. How light these little
bodies were! And yet, their earnest seeking for sustenance moved me, caused my
heart to quicken, as I thought, “How alike all the babies of all creatures are!
How they move us to compassion! How easy they are to love!”
And that I did. So it was that
three little hedgehogs came to make Ferndean their new home.
**
Joanna will make a $1 donation to Tigglywinkles, the world's busiest animal rescue hospital, for each individual commenter (limit $50). http://www.sttiggywinkles.org.uk/ Offer ends one week from today, on August 24, 2012.
**
Death of a Schoolgirl, a Mystery Guild Featured Alternate, is now available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Books-A-Million, and at all independent bookseller.
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Very cute, Jane!
ReplyDeleteJane, they're adorable! I'm wondering, though, why it is that they aren't found living outdoors in America. I would love to have these cuties in my garden.
ReplyDelete~ Sophie
How cute. I don't think I have ever seen the babies. Thank you for the picture. Dee
ReplyDeleteSave the hedgerows and save the hedgehogs!
ReplyDeleteNever saw a baby hedgehog before. Sso cute.
ReplyDeleteHedgehogs are so cute.
ReplyDeleteThey are precious. The closest thing I'd ever seen before is a porcupine, and some quick Google-fu tells me that they aren't at all the same thing.
ReplyDeleteHoggies are adorable, I love how they run on tiptoes!
ReplyDeleteMrs. Tiggywinkle and Miss Potter would both be proud to know you, Jane.
ReplyDeleteI'll add my comment so that a donation can be made to help these small balls of wonder. Your story is quite fun to read, especially on a cloudy Sunday afternoon. Thanks!
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful post - and an adorable little hedgehog! So excited to see a new line of books from you!
ReplyDeletetHEY ARE AMAZING, SOOO CUTE!!
ReplyDeleteHedgies are so cute. How wonderful of Jane to want to save the Hedgies
ReplyDelete