Category Archives: Animals

0

Calling All True Hedgehogs

|

https://i0.wp.com/i.telegraph.co.uk/multimedia/archive/02555/hedgehogs_2555759c.jpg

 Lord Nelson (aka Horatio Hedgehog, our resident insectivore) tells me there is disturbing news in the hedgehog world. Apparently someone has decided to make a movie about Sonic the Hedgehog.

I am not very knowledgeable about Sonic. He had his own video game in the early 1980’s. I vaguely remember a cartoon about him. As I recall, he nabbed the villains mainly through cunning and extraordinary speed.

I asked Horatio why hedgehogs would have a problem with a movie about one of their own. He looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. How would I like it if everyone assumed I was just like Barbie? Or Miley Cyrus? I got the point.

He referred me to THRASH (True Hedgehogs Rebelling Against Sonic Hedgehog). I went to their website, THRASHtalk.eu/greatbritain. Guess I should have been able to figure out it would have originated where hedgehogs are free to gather in groups.

Looking at the site, I realized that the group has a long-standing grudge against Sonic.

For one thing, he’s blue. No self-respecting hedgehog would ever appear in blue. It’s garish and flashy. True hedgehogs are attired in dignified earth tones. Possibly with a tasteful pink undertone.

He talks a lot. It’s like he’s embarrassed by the cute snuffling noises real hedgehogs make.

He walks on two feet and wears shoes. Seriously? Who is going to wander around woods and hedges on two feet looking for food? You’d never be able to sniff it out. In fact, you’d probably step on it.

Not only that. What’s the only place hedgehogs are truly vulnerable to predators? The stomach. What self-respecting animal is going to walk around showing off his weak spot?

Sonic can’t swim. Most hedgehogs love the water and are very good swimmers. (This is a point of contention for Horatio. He’s afraid of water.)

He is a terrible role model for young hedgehogs. He is a daredevil. He runs faster than the speed of sound and uses the “Sonic Spin Attack” to defeat his enemies. There is nothing remotely realistic about him.

Most importantly, he is a sell-out. He makes a mockery of the hedgehog’s well-deserved reputation for modesty and reserve.

Forget about the games, cartoons, and movies. He has appeared several times with his arch-rival Mario just for the money. On Nintendo, no less.

In 1996, Sonic was the first video game character to be seen in a Rose Parade. Sonic is also the first video game character to have a balloon in Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

Between 1993 and 1997, Sega sponsored the JEF United Ichihara Chiba football team, during which period Sonic appeared in the team’s uniform. Was he ashamed of his quills?

During the 1993 Formula One championship, Sega sponsored the Williams Grand Prix team. Sonic was featured on the cars and helmets. Their rivals McLaren used to paint a squashed hedgehog after winning races over Williams. Why would he agree to something that included a squashed hedgehog? Is that something you would want your children to see?

The 1993 European Grand Prix featured a Sonic balloon and Sonic billboards.

I guess I could see their point. But I told Horatio that I didn’t see how THRASH was going to be able to stop the movie. He said that they knew they couldn’t stop the movie. They just wanted to try a different tactic than other conservative groups have used to limit its influence.

They are hoping to convince everyone to just ignore the movie. The less publicity it gets, the better. It’s been 20 years since he was a star. That’s way past the lifespan of the average hedgehog. Hopefully, his time is past.

If that doesn’t work, the plan is to infiltrate the corporate offices and destroy the master files. It didn’t work for the NSA, but it’s worth a try.

6

Is WordPress Specie-ist?

|

As I was wandering through some blogs a few days ago, I made a discovery. There are a lot of blogs about/by cats. Which makes sense, since everyone knows cats are the original Internet stars. There are probably an equal number about dogs, although I really didn’t do a full recon on that. In fairness, for me size matters when it comes to dogs. Generally speaking, I prefer those of 40 pounds or more.

Of course, I found some posts about hedgehogs. Lord Nelson (my hedgehog) seemed to be the predominant recurring character. I guess grumpy and spiny is not for everyone. In fairness to Horatio, though, he has stopped huffing at me.

The only thing I found for bears were some very nice photos, but nothing with any personality. Likewise for most creatures who live in the wild. Raccoons and bats made the cut for the cuteness or nuisance factor. Not exactly material for an ongoing storyline. I disqualified blogs like Cute Overload who have a variety of animals, but only pictures/videos intended to make you say “awwwww”.

Then I tried to figure out how one would put backyard critters in a blog. When I looked out the window this morning, I would have sworn it was November: cool, gray and rainy. Eureka! A story about how the little guys decide where to winter. Hint: most of them can’t afford the fare to Florida or Padre Island. If we’re quiet, we can listen in:

The fall meeting of the semi-rural/suburban animals was about to get started. Squirrel, the most energetic of the group, was getting ready to moderate. He looked around to make sure everyone was represented.

Then he frowned and pointed. “You predators, you know you’re not allowed at these meetings.” The coyote slunk off, but the rest stayed.

Fox: You never let us stay. What are going to say that’s so top-secret?

Squirrel: You know very well that the main topics of these meetings are food and safety. The last time we let you guys stay, you and raccoon spent the meeting whispering about which of us looked tastiest and which was the easiest to catch. We’re talking about winter survival today. Now scram!

Raccoon: We have to survive too, you know.

Squirrel: Maybe, but not by eating us.

Fox and Raccoon walked away. The deer made a circle around the little group to keep them out.

Squirrel: OK, does everyone have a den ready?

Woodchuck: We found a great place under an old tree trunk. My cousin Woody already claimed the primo spot under the deck.

Rabbit: Just remember, Woodchuck, we live in that complex too. Keep the noise down.

Woodchuck: What are you talking about? We hibernate all winter. You guys are the ones practicing to repopulate the world in the spring.

Mouse: We’re taking our usual spot in the walls of those two old houses over there (points to a couple of Victorian holdovers).

Mole: Well, be careful. There’s a couple of domestics over there that roam around a lot outside.

Mouse: Not to worry. The pointy-eared one spends the winter in front of the fire and the floppy-eared one only comes out to mess up the landscape. The human won’t stay out and play with him.

Squirrel: Are all of you going to fit in those two houses?

Mouse: Not a chance! But the older kids want to try toughing it out in the woodpile. I tried to tell them that the humans use those woodpiles in the winter. They think they won’t get caught. You know what it’s like trying to talk to kids.

The animals all laugh and nod.

Frog: It’s almost time for us to burrow into the mud for the season, so we’re set.

Snake: Same here. What about you, squirrel?

Squirrel: We’re splitting up this year. Some of us are going the usual route and sleeping in trees. But my brother Earl heard that attics are nice and toasty in the winter.

Mole: There’s bats up there!

Squirrel: Earl says they were all driven out over the summer.

Mole: But the humans will hear you.

Squirrel: That’s part of the plan. The mice will be in the walls and the squirrels will be in the attic. It’ll drive the humans nuts, but it will be too cold for them to do anything about it. We just have to get out quick in the spring.

Mole: I think the rest of us will just hang out at the club underground. It’s pretty cozy if we cuddle up. We mostly sleep anyway.

Squirrel: Well, it looks like everyone’s set. The community center has extra nesting material if you still need any. Otherwise, on to the potluck! Remember, you can take as much as you want, but eat everything you take. It’s the season for bulking up, we don’t want any food to get wasted. Anything you brought that’s not eaten, you can either take home or donate to the emergency pantry.

The animals disperse to eat and talk.

The humans have been inside commenting on how cute they all are. They don’t realize they are about to be invaded.

 

0

Lord Nelson Doesn’t Like the Savanna

|

Actually I don’t know whether that is true. He has never been to the savanna. Horatio, Lord Nelson, is the full name of my hedgehog. He is an African pygmy hedgehog. Which means that his ancestors came from Africa and his breed is smaller than the ones found back home by the British explorers who first saw them. I think that he is extremely cute and was pretty excited to see a relative on the front cover of the most recent issue of National Geographic. Until I discovered he was the poster boy for the questionable practice of trying to make pets of wild animals.

I don’t think Horatio knows he’s supposed to be wild. When we let him out of his cage, he likes to roam around sniffing everything. But he has never made a break for the door or shown any signs of wanting to leap for our throats and have a meal. Although that may be more of function of him weighing about a pound and a half. Besides, he is an insectivore and last time I checked, we are not insects. Do not call him a rodent. He is extremely sensitive to the reputation rodents have, and he does not wish to be confused with one.

We have a paper giving his parents’ names. Given that hedgehogs only live 2 – 4 years, his family’s been in the country for generations. More generations than mine has.

He has never seemed particularly interested in the occasional bug we have flying around. Apparently he is content with his kitty kibble. (Although he did seem somewhat interested in a chocolate chip I dropped by him. He’s definitely my hog.)

Which brings me to the animals that are actually discussed in the article. One of them is a capybara. For those of you not into rodentia, a capybara is the largest member of the rodent family (at least I hope so). They are larger than housecats and look like a large guinea pig with slicked back hair. They are actually rather cute. But I can see having nightmares about the cute little critter in the habitrail (do they still make those?) taking steroids and coming after me.

I can’t imagine having one of those big cats they show either. This morning, one of our cats was rubbing against the bathroom door while I was getting ready for my shower. I thought she wanted to go downstairs, so I opened the door to let her go. Instead, she came into the bathroom and laid down wanting me to rub her tummy. (By the way, the experts say cats hate having their tummies rubbed – I haven’t had the heart to tell our cats.)

Anyway, if a tiger wanted to be petted, I’m guessing he would have come through the door and made his wishes known. It’s cute when a 10-lb. cat wraps her paws around your hand. I would feel like lunch if a 400-lb cat did it. I’m thinking that play time would probably involve more than waving a feather on a stick. Unless the feather was attached to a chicken.

Bears are another exotic option. I think baby bears are adorable. And the parents are beautiful with their 4″ teeth and 10″ nails. When I was little, my parents got me a teddy bear every Christmas. They always came with a music box that quit working before the year was out. I ended up with a family of silent bears.  The best kind when you sleep with them.

Sleeping with a baby grizzly sounds kind of attractive on some of the cold nights we’ve been getting. They’re probably nice and warm. And they look so cuddly. They seem like the type of animal that might snore. And eat me if I took up too much of the bed.

There were some exotic birds in the article. I really dislike birds. They are beautiful. And some of them are pretty amazing in the way they migrate thousands of miles. Others have cool ways of building nests or feeding their young. But they all have beaks. I do not want a pet that can peck at me. Or whatever the equivalent is for a toucan. Thinking about it, I’m not sure how a toucan would bite.

Which brings me to snakes. I’m not a huge fan of reptiles. I’m OK with the ones with legs. We had a mountain lizard for several years, and Rex was definitely part of the family. I put him in the same classification with the hedgehog. Not particularly cuddly, but a definite personality.

On the other hand, I don’t have any rapport with snakes at all. I’m not afraid of them, I’m just not interested in having one running (slithering?) around the house. I don’t like having things watching me, and they seem to spend a lot of time curled up not doing much of anything else. I refuse to go to the pet store to get live things for it to eat. And the only ones that cuddle are the ones that squeeze too tight if you don’t give them enough other things to play with.

It all reminded me of an article I read several years ago about PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals). The person being interviewed said that it was cruel to keep dogs and cats as pets. They were intended to roam free.

We had two (different) cats at the time, Rascal and Critter. Beauty and brains. Rascal probably wouldn’t have lasted more than a couple of days before being eaten by who knows what out there (we have raccoons, coyotes, skunks, hawks, etc.). She was a very sweet cat, but a total princess. Critter would have sat at the door crying to be let back in. She knew she had a good thing.

I think I’ll keep things the way they are. Our cats have us trained, but at least I’m not worried about them eating me if they want a midnight snack.

6

I Hate Dead Chickens

|

Actually, I’m not too fond of the living ones either. As far as I’m concerned, the only good chicken is one that is somewhere in the process of being made into a meal.

My particular complaint at the moment is that they are taking up more than their fair share of my cheese cooler. Apparently the manager told my team leader that she should always have two extra carts of chickens in my cooler at all times. That usually translates to three overfull carts, although a couple of weeks ago there were two pallets plus two carts.

I’m hoping that whatever chicken splurge the manager is hoping for happens soon. For some reason, the very fact of us having more chickens has not translated directly into more people wanting them.

In an effort to not take up any more room than necessary, the deli stocker usually tries to put as many cases on a cart as possible. Sixteen cases at 46 pounds a case means a cart weighing over 700 pounds. If I have to unload the chickens (the team leader says it isn’t a job for women – so she lets me do it*), there are only 12 or 13 cases on the cart. Less cheese space but I can move the cart without throwing myself at it. Probably less entertaining for people walking past. *My team leader is taller and heavier than I am.

In order to give the little beasties their due, I have looked at some “Fun Facts” from Smithsonian.com. The best stuff involves male/female relations:

A rooster announces to a flock of chickens that he’s found food with a “took, took, took.” But the hens don’t pay attention if they already know that there is food around. Sorta like when I tune my husband out as he tells me for the whatever time the specs for his perfect TV.

Roosters perform a little dance called ‘tidbitting’ in which they make sounds (food calls) and move their head up and down, picking up and dropping a bit of food. Researchers have found that females prefer males that often perform tidbitting and have larger, brighter combs on top of their heads. Sounds like this might have been the prototype for disco. Makes me think of a group of guys strutting around to get the girls’ attention while the girls are giggling about how silly the guys look.

Scientists think that the rooster’s wattle–the dangly bit beneath his beak–helps him to gain a hen’s attention when he is tidbitting. It is just too disturbing for me to make any sort of analogy to a person with loose skin that looks like a wattle.

A female chicken will mate with many different males but if she decides, after the deed is done, that she doesn’t want a particular rooster’s offspring she can eject his sperm. Empowered females – I like this. Maybe this is what that politician was thinking when he said that women could prevent a pregnancy caused by a rapist. Did he come from farm country?

There are approximately 25 billion chickens in the world. More than any other species. They are found all over the world. If they weren’t known for the habit of pecking themselves to death, I would say that it’s a conspiracy to take over. Even our politicians should be able to take on something that dumb.

Chickens are not native to the Americas. It is generally agreed that they started somewhere in the vicinity of Vietnam. They were either brought by the Polynesians to Chile or the Spaniards to Central America. I’m going with the Spaniards. One of the things the indigenous people noted about them is how bad they smelled. Ever been to a chicken farm?

I did not realize that chickens are omnivores. I thought they ate seeds and grains. Turns out they also like insects, mice, and lizards. Both mice and lizards are pretty quick. Maybe male chickens give them to lady chickens when they are trying to impress them. I can picture a rooster holding a mouse by the tail as a gift. Pretty scary.

OK, now I know more about chickens. I still don’t like them. And I think they know it and are going on the offensive. Yesterday a carton of eggs attacked and spilled yolk all over me.