The hedge and the hedgehog
Last night about 10.30 I took Rocky for a walk in Pearson Park, and as we passed 14 Pearson Avenue he indicated something of interest to him in the garden hedge. As I had previously seen an old dosser, and his dog, in the hedge I assumed he was in residence again and led Rocky away.
On the return journey Rocky was even more interested in the rustling noises coming form the hedge. I started pulling Rocky away, when out of the bottom of the hedge shuffled a hedghog which stopped on the pavement. Rocky wanted to get closer, but I was reminded of childhood and Flash and the bloodied nose with spines stuck in it.
After a couple of minutes or so the hedgehog sensed our presence and about turned and scuttled off back into the bottom of the hedge. Then I remembered seeing one previously a few doors down and wondered if it was the same one. Walking off, I told myself, 'that's why they call it a hedgehog'.
A mixture of law, politics, autobiography and humour. Once described as "The Devilish Advocate" (Guardian), I do have the ability to provoke a response. Sometimes it comes from someone who uses a thought process, and sometimes from jerks usually associated with the knee.
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