Why I like Hedgehogs

(By a vet nurse who runs a halfway house for hogs.)

I am being a collector: I am a being collector. I didn’t just write the same line twice, if you missed it – try looking again. Currently I have four furry beings in my house, and 4 spiky beings in my basement. Actually, they are ‘wanna-be’ spiky beings. Their spikes fell out a while ago: that’s why they are riding out the winter in my basement. They will be free when their spines are long and the weather is warmer.

I am always surprised at peoples’ reactions when I tell them how much I like hedgehogs. I find them truly adorable and utterly fascinating. Mostly because I share the same passion as a hedgehog: eating.

Hedgehogs are kept as pets overseas, but are often despised in NZ. Like all other mammals, they were introduced – brought to NZ through no choice of their own.They happen to thrive here as food is abundant, and hedgehogs just love to eat. They don’t understand what is allowed or not (endangered or not, native or not). They just LOVE TO EAT. Insects, beetles, Wetas, slugs snails,frogs, skinks, grass roots, berries, mushrooms, carrion, compost scraps, rubbish bin goodies, and often eggs – bird eggs – particularly the ones from ground nesting birds. Hence, humans despise them for doing what they do best.

Gardeners on the other hand, often like hedgehogs as they eat all of the other pests in the garden.

Before being called ‘Hedgehogs’, they were called ‘Urchins’. This is where the sea urchin got its name.

They are lonesome. Often walking for kilometers at night in search for food with their tiny little legs and terrible eyesight. They snuffle and snort and sneeze and wheeze as they bury their wiggly nose into the earth sniffing for edible goodies. They are harmless, and would really rather be left alone to find food in peace.

Hedgehogs are resilient creatures. They can be riddled with the nastiest little parasites that burrow into their skin, destroying their only form of defence (their spines), turning them into smelly, naked rock monsters, exposing them to the weather and all predators, and yet they still often survive (probably because most dogs have learnt better than to put a mangy rock monster in their mouth.)

When treated with just one, tiny, quick injection to kill the parasites, the transformation is incredible. The filth falls off, and underneath is always a soft, squishy, slightly furry little being with purpley-pinkish-brown skin and still on the lookout for food.

They have funny little fingers and toes and soft bellies. They have shiny eyes and quite big ears. They have ridiculous tails and Muppet-like mouths. Their spines are soft at birth and are not barbed or poisonous. The average hedgehog has around 5000 individual spines. (That can be a lot of mess to clean up when they fall out.)

Every hedgehog that I have met (and I have met a few), has it’s own, very distinct personality. They can be very shy, or sometimes a little aggro. They’re often curious, clumsy, and quirky. They can be lazy and slow, or really really fast! They can hiss, they can bite – and they can hurt! When young, their teeth are very sharp, but it’s often more like a gumming from a weird little hand puppet.

When a hedgehog comes across a new smell, they can go into a strange trance-like ritual. They will foam and salivate at the mouth, then contort their rotund little body as they try to lick themselves all over, covering their spines with spit. They will lose balance in doing this and roll all over the place. The funniest thing ever, is to watch a hedgehog ‘anoint’. Even more funny is that we still don’t completely understand why they do it.

Hedgehogs are great climbers. But they are also really uncoordinated. Not the right shape, size or weight distribution but still determined to do it. This makes them dangers to themselves and often their desperate search for food lands them into tight spaces, open water, and great heights. Perhaps that is why their body is quite hardy? It has to be.

In winter, there isn’t much food around, so they go to bed for a while.

Actually, that is a complete under-statement: Hibernation is brutal.

Any creature that can survive hibernation is pretty cool in my books (no pun intended.) The hedgehog practically transforms from a warm-blooded being to a cold-blooded being for around three months of the year. As their body begins to cool, the little hedgehog will slow down and as they walk around they wobble like they are drunk.

In hibernation, the body’s normal metabolism and processes almost come to a complete stand still. The hedgehog’s heart rate will drop from around 200 beats per minute to around 20. It will take a breath every few minutes, and it’s body temperature drops from 35 degrees Celsius to around 10 degrees Celsius (an act that would normally kill another being.) It will appear dead and feel very cold to the touch. But deep inside its little body, the blood around the heart remains warm and snuggly.

While the hedgehog appears dead, his/her body can still automatically curl into a ball and flex the spines if a predator comes along. The hedgehogs fat will fuel the body (thank god they like to eat, right?) If the weather turns really really cold (below 1 degree Celsius), the hedgehog can suffer fatal frostbite, or freeze solid. To avoid this, the hedgehog’s incredible little body sends messages to special fat reserves that work like rocket fuel to produce heat, pump it through the bloodstream, warming the muscles – causing them to shiver and produce more heat. Within just a few hours the hedgehog’s body temperature can climb back up 25 degrees and it’s heart rate climb above 300 beats per minute. The hedgehog will wake from it’s sleep, realise it is cold, and quickly find somewhere better to be!

Unfortunately, many hedgehogs do not make it through hibernation due to floods, predators and cold. That is why, as long as there is eating to be done, they will keep moving.

This is why I love hedgehogs.

Number 1: They are RULED by food.

Number 2: They are spiky, shy, determined, clumsy beings, with amazing, interesting bodies that go through all sorts of stress and transformation, just to survive to do it again. They perform clown-like, curious behaviours that still can’t be fully understood and most of all

Number 3: They wish we would just leave them alone. No matter how many hedgehogs I have treated, all of them run as fast as they can as soon as you place them down on the grass on the night of their release. Their silly fat little bodies wobbling off into the darkness as you fumble to grab your camera and snap that last ‘precious memory’ photograph for all your facebook friends who think you are bonkers.