Prickly (Pair) Trio

The Chartwell watchdog Benjamin Labrador is surely one of the most prolific scouts to sniff out and bring home hedgehogs whenever he can. If you have ever tried to pick up one of these little critters, you will know how difficult it is, and how painful the pricks in your fingers can be.

Nevertheless, last night Bennie lived up to his name as a dedicated scout. Just after supper, as the family was settling down to watch the TV news, Sophie alerted us with one of her famous yelps that something was up. We went to look, and there was Bennie with a cute little very-much-alive hedgehog. Time for incarceration in the green laundry bucket. Bennie was awarded his regular “Good Boy” pat on the head, and everyone settled back to see the news, which had been placed on pause.

Everyone, except Benjamin.

Ten minutes later, Sophie alerted the household once more. No prizes for guessing. However, this time the hedgehog was a late hedgehog, with blood and a bit of guts all over the shop, so to speak. Bennie’s mouth was also not quite perfect. The ex-hedgehog was placed in the red laundry bucket. This coincidence had nothing to do with green=oK and red= dead , it simply worked out that way. Another “Good Boy” pat for Bennie, and finally we looked forward to seeing what the news had to offer.

Everyone, except, yes… Benjamin.

Half an hour later, with most of the news (including all the adverts) having been digested, Sophie sounded her final alert. A third still-living hedgehog was proudly displayed by Olympic-potential hedgehog hunter Benjamin Labrador.

Should number 3 be imprisoned in the green bucket or the red? It turned out that the red bucket was closest, so the newcomer ended up with Dead Dannie. Somehow, I don’t think that hedgehogs think that deeply, he simply accepted the local hospitality with the grace which befits any well-educated rodent.

This morning, I loaded the two buckets, with their three stinky inmates, into the back of the car and set off for St Andrew’s Presbyterian. After a few minutes I arrive. At my back is a signboard showing Reikorangi Road and Ngatiawa Road in opposite directions. To my left is the red roofed church of St Andrew. Our hedgehogs (well two of them) lay curled up like balls of grey knitting for a few moments, and then  scurried away to freedom of the bank of blue agapanthus flowers.

(Above): The trio of Bennie’s haul lie waiting on the grass opposite St Andrew’s, before heading for the hills.

Holy hedgehogs

Being kind to animals is one thing. But, when animals take advantage of kindness and make a nuisance of themselves, that’s where one has to draw the line. One such animal is the common hedge-hog.

Far from being cute and cuddly (except for their pups /piglets /hoglets), the local Reikorangi hedgehogs are persistent, with carelessness as their second name, when being in close proximity to anything resembling Bennie’s turf.

Bennie is unable to resist picking up these little critters whenever he encounters one in the shrubbery. He carefully picks them up in his huge jaw, with just sufficient jaw pressure to restrain the creature and not causing any damage to the inside of his mouth. He then brings the prize inside and places it on the floor in a prominent position for all to see. Once he is praised for his prowess as a hunter, Bennie’s interest in the prickly beings immediately wanes.

Our task then is to dispose of the surviving hedgehog in a spot where he will be safe from re-capture. When the hedgehog in question is captured in a dead/dying state, there is no problem with disposal – fling him over the fence into the neighbour’s grazing paddock. But, the live and mobile ones present much more of a problem: their intelligence is of such a level that they do not understand that re-entry to the Chartwell ground might involve a certain demise. 

The policy is to carefully place the living ones in the undergrowth about 4 kilometres away, near St Andrew’s Anglican Church, which is on the way to the station, the shops and the rest of the outside world from Reikorangi Valley, roughly half the distance from Kents Road to the Waikanae town centre.

(Above): The dotted red line indicates the route from Kents Road to a patch of gardens and shrubbery opposite St Andrew’s, via Ngatiawa Road to Reikorangi Road.

There must have now been close on to a dozen hogs which have been transported from Kents Road to opposite the church for re-cycling.  I can only say Holy hedgehogs!

St Andrew’s

St Andrew’s Church and Hall ( Te Whare Karakia me te Horo o Saint Andrew)

On our way to Wellington this morning, we quickly popped in at St Andrew’s. I checked a bit of the past history: Between 1892 and 1893 Reikorangi was surveyed and the ‘Church Acre’ was laid out to include a school, town hall, church, churchyard and a store. The land was donated by the Parata family. With a growing population and only a rough track to reach Waikanae (then known as Parata Village), the need for a church became urgent. In 1959 a vestry and chancel were added. The church’s bell, from the wreck of the Devon in Wellington harbour in 1913, still calls the people of the valley to worship.

Just a few kilometres from us is the tiny Anglican church of St Andrew at the confluence of Reikorangi Road, Ngatiawa Road and Akatarawa Road in the Reikorangi valley area.

On the far side of the tiny church lies a steep downhill with a series of well-kept gardens.

The flag of St….. no guessing there!

Down below on the ground this mosaic tile laid in the walkway … more of the same.

St Andrew’s Day

30 November 2013. Co-incidentally St Andrew’s Day (Not St Andrews’), but is close enough. I was told by reliable sources, that our predecessors were MacDonald-Andrews from some or other Lochs or Glens or Cairns. I am not one for disputing reliable information, so there is possibly a spot of Scottish blood left in these veins.

Why should St A’s day be significant for us this year? Well, it is the day that I met Natasha Johnson (that’s her stage name). She is a travel expert (her title on her business card) and she arranges travel bookings. Therefore 30 November is really the birth of ‘How Green is Our Valley.’ Thank you, Natasha.

St Andrew’s Day is the feast day of Saint Andrew (Scots: Saunt Andra), the Patron Saint of Scotland, and it is Scotland’s official National Day.

Schools across Scotland hold special St Andrew's Day events and activities including art shows, Scottish country dancing, lunchtime ceilidhs, dance festivals, storytelling, reciting and writing poems, writing tall tales, cooking traditional Scottish meals, and bagpipe-playing. These events are not a part of a curriculum or expected as a norm, it is an individual schools' choice to recognise the event in celebration.

I suspect there may be a wee bit of drinking as well.