The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2346 by Angharad Copyright© 2014 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

I stood surrounded by the seven students who’d decided they’d like to see a dormouse. I couldn’t actually promise one, but we had a reasonable chance. I was leading the survey today, my usual leaders were there but ceded to me—well I had trained them.

Suffice to say that I explained what we were at and how we went about it. We had two hundred nest boxes to check and that they needed to do as we’d shown them. We had a dummy box fitted to tree with plastic coated cable and I showed them how to check the box covering the hole at the back first, then if nesting material or a dormouse was seen to take the box off the tree, pop it in the large plastic bag and wait for a supervisor to come.

I showed them how to check any nesting material—essentially, you stick your finger in it to feel for warmth and dryness. Sometimes the dormouse or other incumbent will have jumped out at this stage, but not always, especially if there are young present.

If there is a dormouse then we weigh it and see if it’s been chipped and we can record a definite individual. The box number is also recorded. If it hasn’t been chipped, assuming it’s big enough, we might do that and record it. Then the mouse is returned to the box and it in turn is replaced on the tree. Seeing as they can be recorded several times over the years, it would appear careful handling and even chipping seems to do little harm to the animals. We remind our would be surveyors that the animals are protected and thus they were working under supervision of someone with a licence.

Finishing my spiel I asked for any questions. A blonde haired girl who I’d not seen before asked, “Was it you who made the film about dormice?”

“Yes.”

“Is it true that you used to be a boy?”

Is this never going to disappear?

“Would it matter if I had been?”

“Yeah, my dad fancied you after watching the film. He wouldn’t if you were a boy.” There were mutterings in the background and eyes were rolled especially by the supervising students—it was old hat to them.

“Denise, I can’t say it worries me if your father does or does not fancy me. I’m happily married with several children—does that answer your question?”

“You still breast feeding Neal’s little one?” asked Tudor Thomas, one of the supervisors.

“Yes, though the little monster is teething and chews on everything.” I let him digest that for a moment.

“Ouch,” was all he said and they all smiled.

We all clambered aboard the university minibus and Tim drove us out to the first site, which was when it rained. It was still raining when we alighted at the first survey area and I delegated students to their supervisors and we worked in four teams. Denise somehow ended up in my team.

“I’m sorry about the personal questions.”

“As far as I know we don’t give degrees for knowing facts about the teachers but about the subjects they teach.”

“Well if you’re breastfeeding a baby you can’t be a boy can you?”

“Do I look like a boy?”

“No, Dr Watts.”

“Let’s go and find some dormice.”

Over the next hour we did just that. We were all wet and muddy by the end of it but between us we had five dormice—a good day’s hunting. Everyone had seen a true, wild dormouse, none were releases, and everyone got to handle a mouse. Hopefully, they were all happy with what we did and the drive back at lunch time was cordial and noisy—somehow, they always get a buzz from finding the first one and handling it.

“Good day?” asked Simon as I got home.

“Yeah, got five dormice.”

“You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

“I suppose so.”

“Suppose so, it’s what you do, oh great hunter of dormice.”

“Yeah, I suppose it is.” It was true, being out in the woods or countryside watching nature or measuring it, is what I do best.

“There’s a but coming, isn’t there?” Damn, he’d picked up on that too.

I shrugged.

“C’mon, babes, tell me—what happened?”

“One of the women students asked if I was a boy.”

“Why?”

“Apparently her dad fancied me when he watched my film.”

“Tough—I mean he’s hardly gonna have the class to make a pass at you anyway. Did you tell her how expensive to run you were?”

“Uh—no, Tim asked if I was still breast feeding.”

“Ah, good call by him, remind me to buy him a drink sometime.”

“It gets so tedious, Si, it really does. Will they never forget?”

“I can’t say, babes, but the Daily Wail did a story about that woman who was impaled by the stag without mentioning she was trans.”

“Goodness—are you sure?”

“Yep, read it twice, so perhaps the media and the rest of them will let it go for you too.”

“They were quite kind about my film.”

“Well yeah, it was about dormeece not you, you just presented it.”

“In tight shorts and top.”

“Did you? I hadn’t noticed.” This was the man who’d watched the film so often he wore out the DVD.

“They gonna be any good?”

“Eh?”

“The students.”

“Oh, oh yeah, I expect so. Once we turned up a dormouse, their spirits rose amazingly.”

“They are rather cute.”

“So is someone else I know,” He grabbed me and carried me upstairs like I was about ten pounds not ten stones.

“I’m all muddy, Simon, put me down.”

“So, we’ve got the technology to refresh you.”

“Have you now?”

“Aye, indeed we hae,” he replied in as poor an accent as I’ve ever heard south of Watford.

We ended up showering together, which was fun and so different to how it was only a couple of years ago.

“Never let anyone say you were anything but a woman, or I’ll punch them on the nose.”

“I can’t deny the truth, Si. It happened.”

“Don’t you believe it.”

“Si, I can’t deny the truth.”

“Why not, other people do, all the time.”

"But I..."

“That’s their problem, don’t let it become yours.