Yesterday we noticed a hedgehog behaving very strangely in our garden: he was running around and around in circles.It took as a while to decide what to do, but to cut a long story short, Simon and I decided to put the hedgehog in a cardboard box and ring around for help. When we picked him up, he curled up tight into a trembling ball: it was pathetic and cute all at once.
The British being the British, of course the have a whole Hedgehog protection society with designated carers for each county. We rang the lady in Oxfordshire, but she wasn't in. Finally the man from Berkshire advised us to get him to the vet, because he was probably suffering from parasites. So we drove him off to Woodstock 5 miles away to the all night vet. There, we discovered that he had ticks, and fleas, and also had a damaged eye and some blood on his fur. The vet promised to give him some anesthetic and some antibiotics and give him a warm place to stay.
When we got home, the phone rang. The lady from our region had rung back. 'I am always home' she said 'except this evening'. She asked after our hedgehog. Then: 'I have had some bad news myself tonight: I have a secondary cancer in my spine. The doctors give me 18 months with radiotheraphy.' 'Do you have anyone to call?' I asked. 'No, no family, no-one', she said. She looks after hedgehogs.
Please pray for E.
