I was sleeping peacefully until excited mutterings from the kennel area woke me up at 4am.
Eight Mini Smooth Dachshunds, all aware that night time is not the time to be barking. But when you go to sleep with the window open, excited squeaking seems pretty loud.
Scooby was asleep in the laundry basket, and Wiggi was still on the sofa.
I try hard to keep peace with my neighbours, good neighbours are hard to find and at this stage of 2004, I had the neighbour from hell. So I got into my dressing gown and legged it out barefoot, quickly, but not as quickly as I would have done if we had had the nice people next door that we have now.
Kennel – Bear in mind that it is Summer, hot nights and Little Woo prefers not to come in when called, but rather to dance round the garden playing “Catch me if you can”. I yell “Bedtime” just once, either they land on the sofa or I shut them in the run where they can snuggle into the beds in the kennel when they have finished playing. I have enough fun getting the kids into bed without Dachshund wrestling.
On opening the kennel door, I was met with a deputation of small waggy people with a LOT to tell me. Oh I wish I had listened! Squeaking and bouncing, they directed my attention to a round shape in the corner. Typical, I’d been conned out of bed again to get their football out of a rut in the ground. Flaming furious (refer to 4am) I hefted my foot at that ball as hard as I could (refer to the barefoot comment) and realised my mistake immediately.
It wasn’t a football.
It was a hedgehog.
The hedgepig is none the worse for his/her ordeal and shuffled off happily when released into the front garden. My foot however is swelling rapidly and looks as if I have gone ten rounds with the sewing machine. I am not venturing out again without a torch and shoes.
Note to self. Squeaking dogs make less noise than screaming owner with hedgehogged foot. Next time go back to sleep.
Note to hedgehog. I have flea powder. Run.