Hedgehog Hibernation - PMOS Style
Do not disturb
It’s October. In London, the leaves are turning red, orange, yellow and purple. The nights are drawing in and the heating’s coming on. No one can be arsed to do a whole lot apart from watch The Traitors in their drafty ancient homes and eat more mashed potato than is usually acceptable. I’ve personally swapped talking to people with making tiny food out of clay (a therapist’s analysis of this would be greatly appreciated, if any are reading). I literally cannot get enough of falling asleep at exactly 8.47pm every night, for what I have fondly come to know as my snooze starter, before the main bed event.
As little as even a few years ago this would’ve given me the absolute ick. I would’ve scoffed at these losers and wondered why they weren’t peeling themselves up from the ass-shaped hole in their sofa to go do a THING. What I didn’t realise then, that I very much do now, is that a) I had an extreme case of the FOMOs, mostly likely due to the fact that I despised my own company, most likely due to the fact that I was lowkey depressed, and b) well, I was wrong.
Being warm when it’s cold is comforting. Sleeping when you’re tired is smart. Eating more when you have no energy is sensible. Arranging an Autumnal table spread for no one other than yourself is cool (🤥).
THE HEDGEHOGS WERE RIGHT ALL ALONG.
(I’d like to add here, before you continue reading, that this post was meant to be about something entirely different than what you’re about to read, but once again the gourds have gone to my head and I’m taking a completely different turn and now incessantly reading about hedgehogs. Brb.)
OK wow, it’s been about 25 minutes of staring at the lil guys and I’ve learnt all sorts. Apparently they do something called ‘anointing’ where when they come across something unfamiliar, they bite it and spew out a load of weird froth, which they then put all over their spikes, to figure out what they’ve come across? I’d like to legally say here I have never done that. However, I did come to the conclusion that my life with PMOS, is in fact, a life as a hedgehog. (I’m fine).
Here are five reasons why:
I read that if you accidentally find a hedgehog and wake it up from its hibernation snoogles you should cover it back up with leaves. Not only do I feel like this during the months October-March, I also feel like this approximately 5-7 working days before my period. Do not disturb me. Please put the leaves BACK on my head and carry on.
However, hibernation and rest isn’t linear for hoggies. They’ll sometimes wake up mid-winter, move miles to a new spot and then drift right back off again. They do what they want, when they want.
Hedgehogs are lactose intolerant. The age old tradition of leaving milk out for them is bad news. It’s relatable content. Everyone is trying to feed you something that makes you feel bad. They don’t mean any harm, but don’t quite get the message?
They’re covered in spines, making them seem sharp and spikey upon first impression, but underneath all the prickly exterior, there’s a soft little naked rat.
Their teeny tiny feet can carry them up to 2km a night, that’s surely the equivalent of about 20km in human strides. They’re sturdy, determined little bastards.
Bonus fact, a baby hedgehog is called a hoglet. And it is 5cm. If you have PMOS you will WELL KNOW that, depending what day it is, you’ll cry at that sentence for exactly 45 minutes.
Sadly, numbers of our lil guys numbers are quickly dwindling in the UK. Because we’re horrible, horrible humans, we have destroyed their habitats by swapping piles of leaves for slabs of concrete, and the safety of a hedge with the death-sentence of a wooden fence.
But, slowly, and mostly thanks to our father in heaven Davey Atty, they’re gaining the awareness they deserve and ‘Hedgehog Highways’ are popping up all around the country (🥹) so they can snuffle around as nature intended and carry on surviving…
Prickly, misunderstood, determined, and finally getting the awareness they deserve? Sounds rather familiar doesn’t it…