We are on our usual last walk of the day in the park. We keep to the perimeter path where there is light. Troubled humans often seek out the discretion of the dark centre. Suddenly the lurcher bounds off and is swallowed up by the night. Excited barking starts up. What trouble is she making? I leave the safety of the light to find her. The collie trails behind me, anxious. Following her voice I find her dancing around something pale and scuttling. I grab the dog. She goes on barking. Spooked, like the collie, I make myself lean down for a closer look. It could be injured.
It takes me a few seconds to realise what I am seeing.
I crouch and catch hold of its shiny white front. When I tug, a small plastic pot comes off. A perfect fit for a hungry hedgehog’s snout and eyes. Inside the pot are the smeared remains of what looks like chocolate sauce. Yet another human danger.
The hedgehog trundles away and we walk back to the path and the litter bin, the lurcher now quiet on the lead. For once I give thanks for her instinct to hunt.
Fragments of self 