The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2629 by Angharad Copyright© 2015 Angharad

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This is a work of fiction any mention of real people, places or institutions is purely coincidental and does not imply that they are as suggested in the story.
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“They’ve started the dormouse surveys already,” panted Delia when I returned a pile of signed letters for her to despatch.

“They do, depending upon weather. As it’s been so mild, I would expect they’ve seen a few.”

“They have. I’m going to be helping in a fortnight’s time—I can’t believe it—me actually helping in something scientific.”

“What’s so remarkable about that?”

“I flunked science in a big way—didn’t seem relevant to girls generally and me in particular.”

“What’s changed your mind?”

“Yes she did.”

I had to think about that for a moment. “Exactly what thing changed your mind?” I rephrased my question.

“Oh lotsa things, seeing so many girl students here, and a woman professor in charge of things. Meeting your tame dormouse, seeing your films and just realising that it could be possible.”

“What—that you could study a science subject?”

“Yeah, especially biology with all those cuddly things.”

“Like hedgehogs and badgers, fruit flies or frogs...”

“Euch, no dormice.”

“What about harvest mice or field mice or woodmice?”

“No, I like dormice and perhaps red squirrels.”

“No otters or polecats?”

“I’d love to see an otter, not sure I’d want to cuddle one.”

“Nor me.” The chances were minimal to put it mildly, but dormeece—we can do. I retreated to my office and called Graham on the internal phone system.

“Hello Professor, to what do I attribute this honour.”

“Hello Graham, male cow poo is alive and well, I see.” He simply laughed. “I hear my secretary is coming dormouse hunting with you in a fortnight?”

“Uh yeah, is that okay?”

“Of course, how many have you got for it?”

“So far about six, why—you thinking of coming?”

“Could be, why is there a problem?”

“Absolutely not, but if you come half the first year will sign up.”

“What?”

“If you come all the newbies will want to come too.”

“Why?”

“Because it immediately becomes the Hampshire equivalent of a big game hunt, with a big beast out in the field.”

“What big beast?”

“You professor.”

“I don’t follow you.”

“Look half of them are only here because they saw your dormouse film and an ambition is to be out in the field with you and see a real live, wild dormouse. Then it’s as close to the film as they can get.”

“Is that for real, Graham?”

“I’ve actually heard one or two say on surveys, ‘If only Cathy Watts was here too, it would be like being in her film.’ So I reckon it’s probably true.”

“Better keep it quiet then.”

“Fine, but can you lead a section?”

“Of course, better stick Delia in it, she can take dictation in between nest boxes.” At this he burst into laughter. “You think I’m joking?”

His answer was another peal of laughter. It was flattering to think my fan club would want to come and play with me. “I can’t believe kids are so naïve as to imagine they’re in one of my films.”

“That’s for the newbies, the rest of us would come to see a mistress of her art in action. You could give a master-class in dormouse surveying techniques.” He chuckled before I could grumble at him.

“You do more of them than I do, dormouse surveys, I mean.”

“Yeah but who taught me?”

“I don’t know, who taught you?”

“Geez Cathy, you did or have you forgotten already?”

“Yes, it’s the consequence of being a celluloid giant after a government elects to indulge small meetings like ours.”

“I think it’s fair, after all who puts the bed into bedrock, but yours ephemerally.”

“As dormice can live five years or more in Earth years, I wonder how they met?”

“Is this a normal.”

“For who, humans or dormice.”

“You’ve lost me, Cathy.”

“Better get your GPS out then. Nice talking to you, Graham.” I put the phone down wondering what we’d been talking about, it seemed somewhat surreal—now was that me or him, or a bit of both? I decided I wouldn’t tell Delia, the way she was flapping earlier she’ll probably pass out in ecstasy. I can’t believe I’d have half the first year turn out if it became known I was out on a field trip. I know I tend to run good ones when I’m teaching, but this is just a normal survey.

If I was that special wouldn’t they all be doing selfies of themselves with me every time we passed in the corridor or do they only recognise me in the flesh when there’s a bit more on show as with those shorts? Don’t answer that, I don’t want to know.

I settled down to read a dissertation from one of my postgrad students who I’ve had investigating hedgehog populations. For the past three years he’s been collecting data on sightings of live hedgehogs from observers, and records of roadkill ones. It makes grim reading suggesting that hedgehogs are in decline by about sixty per cent in the previous twenty years.

I had some data from my study in Bristol and I know it’s not comparing like with like as Portsmouth and Bristol are very different types of city, but the numbers of roadkill then were ten times more numerous, suggesting but not proving, hedgehogs were much more numerous. Sadly, it doesn’t tell us why—climate change, tidier gardens, slug pellets and loads of other factors. It is just as likely to be multi-factorial but I’d bet a pound to a penny that human activity is a very large factor. We’ll be happy when all the wildlife we have are rats, cockroaches and flies because we’ve exterminated everything else deliberately or by accident such as bumble bees with nicotinamide insecticides. If we do lose these bumbling pollinators be prepared to go hungry as they fertilise millions of hectares of arable crops before hive bees get out of bed.

Tom has spoken about keeping bees before now—as I don’t particularly like things that buzz, I haven’t encouraged him, asking him if he fancied himself as Sherlock Holmes—he retired to keep bees in Sussex. We’re just a bit further west from there. His response in typical Tom fashion was, ‘Och no hen, ye’re thae crime fechter here.’

According to Lawrence’s dissertation hedgehogs really are in trouble. Before I got any further depressed, I left to collect the girls from school, hoping they’d cheer me up.