The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2432 by Angharad Copyright© 2014 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“Well you did want to see one, Mummy,” commented our resident genius even though it was stating the bleeding obvious.

“How do we get it out of the kitchen, Mummy?” asked Jacquie, “You’re the expert on dormice.”

“That’s hazel dormice which are small and cuddly, I have a feeling this one will take a bite out of the hand which feeds it.”

“They bite?” shrieked Jacquie.

“Do grow up,” said Trish, a sentiment I agreed with but was unable to say.

“It wasn’t you it frightened to death.”

“How can something that size frighten you?”

“It surprised me, that’s how.”

“Oh so it ran up behind you and said, ‘Boo,’ did it?”

“Less of the sarcasm, Trish. I’m nervous of it and it didn’t surprise me.” Then I had an idea. “Get my butterfly net.” She ran off to the car.

I shut the cupboard hoping it would sit still in the dark. Then I went out to the garden shed which was unlocked and found a pair of gardening gloves which were far too big for me but would serve the purpose. Trish followed me into the kitchen.

“I’m going to try and catch it with the gloves, if it gets past me, scoop it up in the net, okay?”

“I’ll try, Mummy.”

“Everyone else keep back.”

I opened the cupboard door and grabbed the thing round the scruff before it could move. It wriggled a bit. “Someone get a bag.”

“What sort of bag?” asked Jacquie.

“Just a plain plastic one.”

The next trick was to put it in the bag and close it before it jumped out. It was accomplished with lots of sighs and big breaths. My heart was beating like I was racing.

I weighed the animal on the kitchen scales, I am a scientist you know. It was about 100g and I would estimate it to be about 18cm long including the tail. I took it out to the garden and released it on the grass verge by the side of the house. It shot off and scrambled up one of the nearby trees. When I went back the others were cleaning up the broken china and jars and wrapping it in some newspaper before placing it in another plastic bag.

Apparently, in Menorca, the rubbish is taken to large bins which they have on most streets or shopping centres. Tomorrow I’d find our nearest one, Mrs Winner had emptied the swing top bin in the kitchen so there was plenty of room for most of the sort of stuff we’d generate tonight.

“That was exciting, wasn’t it, Mummy?” I think the question was rhetorical but answered it anyway. I agreed with her, it had been exciting, the fear of being bitten making it quite exciting.

“How did that thing compare to our dormice, Mummy?”

“It was about twice the length and five times the weight.” The bag we’d used had only weighed about ten grams, so compared to the local dormice at home, this was a whopper, and as they occasionally eat each other, might the twain never meet, to adapt the Kipling quotation about east and west.

“Do they eat nuts as well?” asked Livvie.

“As well as what?” asked Trish.

“As well as our dormice.”

“They wouldn’t eat our dormice, would they?” Trish seemed shocked. “Dormice eat nuts and things, don’t they?”

“Successful creatures are adaptable, and that includes adapting to eat what’s available.”

“That means it eats Spike?” Trish was shocked.

“Not quite, it might well eat hazel dormice where the ranges overlap, but not in the UK or here in Spain.”

“We in Spain, then?” asked Meems and received several cutting remarks in return.

“This is part of Spain, although the British did rule it for a while, long enough to build two roads and set Mao or Mahon up as the capital. It used to be Cuitadella. This type of dormouse, the garden dormouse as they call it, occurs in much of Europe but not in Britain, and the hazel dormouse occurs over much of Europe but not Spain and Portugal. Garden dormice are much more omnivorous than hazel dormice and will be cannibalistic if the opportunity arises.”

“They eat cannon balls?” joked Danni.

“Each other, stoopid,” corrected Trish.

We put all the stuff away we’d used, including the gardening gloves. I checked for what we’d need to replace amongst the crocks and it wasn’t much, perhaps a couple of mugs if necessary. I sent Si a text to bring a few with him to replace breakages. He replied with something like, ‘Can tell you’re there.’ I nearly replied to say I didn’t break them, Eliomys did, but couldn’t be bothered.

“Was that a dawmouse?” asked Mima looking at Trish’s photo, “don’t wook wike Spike.”

“Doh!” Trish slapped her forehead, “It’s different type of dormouse, dum-dum.”

“I’m not a dum-dum, you’s a dum-dum.”

I think Mima needed to go to bed. Thankfully, Mrs Winner had made up enough beds, so the three younger girls plus Cate, shared one room. Danni had her own, and Lizzie slept in a cot in my room. There was a small study which I thought could double as Lizzie’s bedroom as long as I didn’t want to use it during the evenings. Pro tem this would do and I’d move the cot there tomorrow.

When Simon came next week with Phoebe, she’d have to share with Danni or Jacquie, neither were too worried about it, but I’d leave the choice to Phoebe. Julie wasn’t coming but Sammi had been going to, however, she changed her mind after some super-hacker nearly got through the bank’s defences. She was sure he’d try again so wanted to be there to stop him. I felt she was missing out on a little piece of paradise, but she could always come by herself or with Julie some time.

It wasn’t late when I got to bed myself, and although it was a strange bed I went off to sleep quite quickly dreaming about dormice and bicycles—the Orbea I’d ordered needed setting up, and the ones we were borrowing should arrive tomorrow. I’m sure in one dream I had dormice riding bicycles up trees—might have been induced by my own cooking or the events of the evening, either way it was weird.

Waking early, I made a cuppa and went to the garage where I started putting the bike together, running the cables to the brakes and gears would take the longest, getting the handle bars and wheels on was easy. It was nine o’clock when I finished and it looked quite a smart piece of kit. I couldn’t wait to give it a test ride.

“Oh there you are, we were giving you a lie in,” accused Trish.

“I’ve been making the bike up.”

“Can I see,” asked Danni and went off to view my handiwork. The others eventually followed.

“Have you fed Lizzie?” I asked Jacquie.

“I gave her what was in the bottle, she might need a top up.”

I picked up the youngster and Cate came and gave me a huge hug, squealing as she did so which frightened Lizzie, who promptly burst into tears. The start of another day in paradise...