He’s a very nice hedgehog.

I DON’T WANT A FRICKING HEDGEHOG!!!!!!

I’m not asking you to adopt him. Could you leave a saucer out for him? Water and honey. Not milk, that’s a myth.

You want me to get up right now, go out in the pitch dark and freezing cold, and leave honey for a hedgehog.

Is that okay? Only if he doesn’t find it, he’ll go elsewhere and he’ll get killed on the road or something.

Lissa looked outside again but couldn’t see a thing. There was some rustling. Oh crap, she was going to have to go outside, otherwise she’d be a hedgehog murderer as well as a “bad nurse.” She rolled her eyes and went downstairs, squeezed some Huckle honey and water into a little saucer.

THE WORLD OUTSIDE was extraordinary. No cars passed at this time on the little road; there was no light to be seen anywhere except the dim kitchen lamp in the cottage. A bright, almost full moon shone overhead, making everything bright and clear; the stream rippled, full of gold and silver, and the heavy scent of the bluebells settled over everything. The grass was wet and cold beneath her feet; it needed cutting, but she didn’t mind. She stepped forward carefully into the enchanted midnight garden, not a soul in sight, waited for her eyes to adjust, then knelt down.

She padded as quietly as she could over to the rustling bush, then took out her phone and turned on the flashlight. And there it was! A tiny flash of two bright eyes, then in a blink the little creature was in a fierce ball.

“It’s all right,” she crooned. “It’s okay.”

She turned the flashlight off immediately; she didn’t want to scare it.

“Here.”

She put the saucer down, the moon reflecting straight into the clear ice-cool water, then retreated quietly and knelt down by the back door, absolutely freezing, to watch.

After what felt like a long time, when she could see perfectly well all the outlines of the bushes and the trees, the rustling started up again, and she saw the little shape scamper on tiny feet over to the bowl. It was so cute she nearly exclaimed, wanted desperately to take a photo but knew she couldn’t.

Instead she simply sat and watched, feeling incredibly privileged as the tiny thing lapped at the saucer happily; she felt as if royalty had come to tea, as if the universe had bestowed upon her a great secret gift.

EUPHORICALLY, SHE STAYED still until he had had his fill, refilled the saucer, then headed back up to bed, chilled but triumphant.

He’s here!!!

Great!!!!

Why is he called Ned?

All hedgehogs are called Ned! Neddie Needles!

His full name is Neddie Needles???

That’s what’s on his birth certificate.

I’ve seen worse.

So have I.