The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2658 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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I was really pleased that Delia had taken up the offer to study, though quite what I’d do about secretarial support was another matter. Oh well, it’ll sort itself out, it always does whether I worry about it or not.

She was grinning back at me. “That looks as if it surprised you, professor.”

I smiled back, “I had every confidence that you’d make the best decision for you and I’m delighted for you.”

“I hope the offer of the bursary scholarship thingy still stands?” she said looking less confident.

“Delia, all your university expenses—tuition fees and so on, will be met providing you meet the required standard each year. If you require living expenses as well, I’m sure we could look into helping you there as well.” I’d spoken to Simon about setting up some sort of scholarship and he seemed to think it would easy enough. I’d now have to ask him to organise it. Over three years it would be twenty seven thousand plus something towards books and other expenses—so probably thirty thousand.

“I hoped that I might be able to earn a bit working for you doing typing and stuff.”

“It’s a lovely idea but I’d have to see what the rules are on it because you could be privy to confidential information on other students, plus exam papers and so on.”

“Oh,” she looked crestfallen.

“I’m not saying you can’t, but I’ll have to check on it.”

“I hoped you’d trust me with the confidential stuff.”

“I know I could but I’d have to act in everyone’s best interest, including yours and not place you in a position where you could be open to accusations of any sort.”

“I hadn’t thought of that, maybe I should just withdraw from the course and carry on as your secretary.”

“Please don’t do that.” I blushed and hoped she wasn’t game playing. “Look, no job is for life these days but if you get yourself a degree it will give you greater options and I hope will open your mind to these options.”

“There’s loadsa kids with degrees who don’t have jobs.”

“That’s very true, but most of them are arts graduates with all sorts of nebulous things. You’ll leave here with bachelor of science degree and I hope the confidence in your own abilities to get the job you want and develop a career from it.”

“Did you always want to teach?”

“Me? Good lord no. I wanted to do research and protect endangered species and save the world. Unfortunately, no one wants to listen.”

“That’s not true, your survey is going to do all sorts of things.”

“If only, Delia, if only. We might get one or two things improved and I hope it will give us some sort of baseline but if we can’t save hedgehogs—an animal everyone loves—what chance for things that aren’t as appealing.”

“Poor Mrs Tiggywinkle.”

“Quite.”

“Is it really that bad?”

“In the fifties/sixties we had about thirty million of them, the current estimate is under a million. Unless things happen rapidly, the base population won’t sustain itself.”

“So how can we save them?”

Oh boy, how long is a piece of string? “By making the environment more suitable to them, leaving wild areas in our manicured gardens, perhaps putting food out or leaving water for them.”

“We used to put bread and milk out for them when I was a kid.”

“Um—I’m afraid all that does is give them diarrhoea.”

“What d’you give them then?”

“Dog food—the tinned stuff but not those with fish in them, it causes fatty liver disease.”

“Won’t that have them barking?”

“I don’t care if it gets them through a winter and a chance to breed.” She looked taken aback that I didn’t laugh at her joke. “We need to reduce hazards, like garden ponds—they need hedgehog ladders to escape.”

“Hedgehog ladders—now you’re joking.”

“I’m not, drowning kills them, especially young ones. People put nets over fishponds to keep herons and gulls from predating their precious goldfish and the hedgehogs either get entangled or stuck underneath it. The hedgehog ladder is a piece of roughened timber or tile, which they can use to climb out on.”

“Can they climb?”

“Yes but not enough to get out of plastic ponds or over garden fences, so holes about the size of a cat flap in fences enable them to wander through gardens, providing they don’t meet the family dog or slug pellets.”

“I thought they were dog proof, roll up into a ball and so on.”

“A fox can kill them, so a dog would have little trouble. In the wild, if you go to natural predators, the biggest one is the badger who can tear them apart in no time.”

“Wow. I don’t suppose they give them TB as well do they?”

“I read somewhere that badgers like salt licks that farmers put out for cows. It’s thought that they may be implicated in the transmission of the disease.”

“Cor, you know your stuff, don’t you?”

“Sometimes.”

“You’re so modest, professor, which is something that I noticed from the beginning of working with you. I wanted to study dormice because of seeing your work with them, but maybe I should do hedgehogs instead.”

“Over three years you’d have time to do both and hedgehogs is easier, you can do that in an urban or suburban environment, although both are mainly nocturnal creatures.”

“How would I know I’ve got hedgehogs in a garden?”

“Easiest way is to set footprint traps.”

“How d’you do that?”

“You’ll learn that on the course but essentially it’s about putting down special paper over an ink pad and anything walking over it leaves footprints. Motion detecting camcorders are another way plus getting people to tell you if they have hedgehogs.”

“It’s so easy when you know how, isn’t it?”

“Uh—not really, because the weather is always wrong or you set up your camera to record low level stuff and somebody’s dog eats it.”

She burst into laughter. “Honestly, no wonder they love having you teach them, you’re like a stand up comedienne.”

“It’s funny in the safety of a lecture room but not when your resources are precious and some bast...nice person sees your camera in the woods and walks off with it.”

“That sounds like the voice of experience.”

“I’m afraid so. Humans are a total pain yet we’re stuck with them. They destroy habitats, sometimes wantonly. They kill for fun, sometimes wantonly and they seem to think they have some god given right to do just as they want.”

“Don’t they?”

“I hope that wasn’t a serious question.”

“I’m sure you’ve dealt with it before.”

“Oh yes, but so you don’t get the full anti-religious rant, let me tell you the facts. Humans are just clever apes, some are too clever for their own good and some are dumber than our nearest relative the chimpanzee. There is evidence in DNA to support this and the fossil record supports evolutionary development, which we’re learning is probably more complex than we once thought.

“There is no evidence for a god nor intelligent design. It’s all based upon people’s personal subjective experiences and hearing voices is more likely to be mental illness than divine communication. However, religion is based on faith and doesn’t need evidence—yet they insist evolution does. No amount of evidence will prove to the believers that they’re wrong.”

“Isn’t there a danger you could be just as dogmatic as the believers?”

I smiled, she was already questioning things—she’d make a good student and hopefully, scientist. “Oh yes, I’m a believer—didn’t you know?”

“Eh?” she looked perplexed.

“Yeah, my god is scientific method, not some ancient mumbo jumbo.”

“Oh, for a moment you had me worried.”