I've Adopted A Psychotic Hedgehog.
His name is Booker, and although he looks like a normal, cute little hedgehog, I know, and he knows, that he is the demon seed.
Hedgehogs are known as "exotics". They should be known as "psychotics".
Don't let his adorable little face and tiny little feet fool you. Inside that spikey (spiky?) shell beats the heart of a nasty little beasty. He's vindictive, he's calculating and he holds a grudge.
A few weeks ago I put a kleenex box in Booker's cage. I thought he'd like this "house" material. Nope. The little rotter flunge the box at his water bottle until it dislodged, fell to the floor, and broke. I put in a new water bottle, he did the same thing. I put the bottle back in, zap-strapped it and wired it to the cage, and took the box out.
I felt guilty about Booker not having "house" material. Hedgehogs like to be in or under something most of the time. Christine didn't help much with her non-stop "poor Booker, you took his house away, poor, poor Booker..." So I gave him a paper bag......it lasted until 4:00 AM, when the crinkle, crinkle, crunch I had listened to for hours finally drove me over the edge, and yes, I again took his house away.
I'm a bad, bad hedgehog mommy.
I was determined to find my surly spiked "son" a house that we all could live with. I put a small cardboard box in his cage, and it seemed okay, but I wanted something sturdier and more permanent. I found a large, heavy "hidey hole home" (I did not make up that name, so don't blame me) that I thought would be the solution to our little problem.
Yeah, 'k.
Last night. Christine jerked awake at some ungodly hour in a panic about a loud banging. Sure enough, it was Booker, throwing this huge, heavy cardboard roll at the wall. He has a thing about cardboard tubes since he got his head stuck in a toilet paper roll last month....
So I open the cage and picked up the roll (which, by the way, weighs more than the hedgehog) but Booker would not let it go. He grabbed it with his paws, then his teeth, and just held on. It took me five minutes to disengage the little creep.
I've had two other hedgehogs, Nikki, a sweet, loving, totally cuddly little creature, and Tucker, who was a bit more aloof than Nikki, but still a sweetheart. Booker is the anti-sweetheart. He bites, he growls, he huffs 24/7......he is the Quentin Tarantino of hedgehogs.
How does one train a hedgehog?
Hedgehogs are known as "exotics". They should be known as "psychotics".
Don't let his adorable little face and tiny little feet fool you. Inside that spikey (spiky?) shell beats the heart of a nasty little beasty. He's vindictive, he's calculating and he holds a grudge.
A few weeks ago I put a kleenex box in Booker's cage. I thought he'd like this "house" material. Nope. The little rotter flunge the box at his water bottle until it dislodged, fell to the floor, and broke. I put in a new water bottle, he did the same thing. I put the bottle back in, zap-strapped it and wired it to the cage, and took the box out.
I felt guilty about Booker not having "house" material. Hedgehogs like to be in or under something most of the time. Christine didn't help much with her non-stop "poor Booker, you took his house away, poor, poor Booker..." So I gave him a paper bag......it lasted until 4:00 AM, when the crinkle, crinkle, crunch I had listened to for hours finally drove me over the edge, and yes, I again took his house away.
I'm a bad, bad hedgehog mommy.
I was determined to find my surly spiked "son" a house that we all could live with. I put a small cardboard box in his cage, and it seemed okay, but I wanted something sturdier and more permanent. I found a large, heavy "hidey hole home" (I did not make up that name, so don't blame me) that I thought would be the solution to our little problem.
Yeah, 'k.
Last night. Christine jerked awake at some ungodly hour in a panic about a loud banging. Sure enough, it was Booker, throwing this huge, heavy cardboard roll at the wall. He has a thing about cardboard tubes since he got his head stuck in a toilet paper roll last month....
So I open the cage and picked up the roll (which, by the way, weighs more than the hedgehog) but Booker would not let it go. He grabbed it with his paws, then his teeth, and just held on. It took me five minutes to disengage the little creep.
I've had two other hedgehogs, Nikki, a sweet, loving, totally cuddly little creature, and Tucker, who was a bit more aloof than Nikki, but still a sweetheart. Booker is the anti-sweetheart. He bites, he growls, he huffs 24/7......he is the Quentin Tarantino of hedgehogs.
How does one train a hedgehog?
posted by Alphamutt at 11:40 PM
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