Blogging is not life. I recognise this. It is not even a subset of life. Perhaps it is an assendum of life, something else to do. It might be a part of life, or just a way of passing the time.
Cricket is life, but I am currently pretending it doesn' t exist [inflates chest, makes eye-contact, congratulates South Africa sincerely and slumps back to position] and the Athletic beat Real Madrid yesterday, but football is ephimeral, so it's time for hedgehogs again.
The Northwich Guardian is just another local rag and you wouldn't expect much, but its attitude to Atelerix is distinctly unsound. I'd be very surprised if the great and the good go anywhere near the place, but someone of the brainless, tofu-weaving persuasion seems to have bought one of my kind and that's enough for a newspaper article.
A few points:
African hedgehogs (european ones, too) are strictly nocturnal. We do not appreciate having to get up before some time after sundown, and continued disturbance (such as being carted round by some bimbo in a Gucci handbag) makes us very poorly indeed. When we do get up we like to cover a lot of ground. Being stuck in a bag and petted by people with expensive hair is not our thing.
The comments on the article are in general fairle sound, but it's worth adding my two ha'porth. The next time some silly bint with a low-forehead and a shrill voice, whose main intellectual activity is working out how to show off her backside to its greatest advantage, babbles on about how she is in touch with nature and raises a great deal of money for the purchase of free-trade raffia pecan baskets and environmental sensitivity enforcement patrols, remember that the Atelerix sp x sp in her fannypack is cursing her ancestors and wishing he could lend her a few little grey cells.
A Pean for Little England
33 minutes ago