Walking back from my parents' tonight I met a hedgehog. The silly thing sauntered down the middle of Portland Road, then crossed over New Street Hill onto the verge on far side, all with no regard for its personal safety. Fortunately there was no traffic, else it might have become an ex-hedgehog. Usually I see a fox around this point, so a hedgehog is nice variation. It's only 4 houses from my parents, so hopefully it will be visiting their garden and reducing the local slug population, with whom my dad does not get on. A long time ago I met one further down New Street Hill (on the side with the houses), and I met one on the path back through the park relatively recently, although it was all rolled up and as it was dark I nearly stood on it - fortunately spotting the anomolous lump on the path just in time.
My dad and their dog, Rocket, had previously met a hedgehog on that path in much the same place, in much the same configuration. Rocket bounced around most excited, barking at it, but for some reason it didn't want to play ball (read "run away", which is what Rocket wants for his fun, even if the fun isn't mutual). Well, I guess it was playing ball by its rules, but that's not cricket as far as Rocket is concerned, as balls shouldn't be covered in spikes preventing him from picking them up. Without a resolution between the immovable and unstoppable objects (well, immotile and unsilencable), my dad put Rocket on the lead and lead him away.
Hedgehogs - more interesting than foxes. At least to me. Rocket prefers foxes.