The short, sweet life of Hérisson le Hérisson

This week was definitely an interesting one. We got a new roommate in our apartment: a

hedgehog by the name of Hérisson. "Hérisson" is the french word for hedgehog, but, when pronounced with an american accent, it sounds like the name "Harrison."

Hérisson's brief time in my life began on Tuesday afternoon. I was getting something out of my closet when I hear my roommate slamming the door and shouting up the stairs about bringing home a dying animal that was missing an eye. When she said that, I imagined a bloody animal, perhaps one that had been attacked by a badger

or some other sort of animal. Instead, it was a cute baby hedgehog, a little skinny but definitely not the bloody animal I was envisioning. My roommate, who works at the Primaire in Gaillac,

brought him home after the children at her school found him on the playground. They though he was dead, and, being children, they decided to hit him with sticks. After Kat (my roommate) and the other teachers realized that it was actually still alive, Kat put him in a box, put the box in a plastic bag, and biked the 30 minutes from her school to the bus stop with Hérisson on her handlebars. She then took a 30 minute bus ride to Albi, and another 5 minute bike ride to our house, all the while preventing Hérisson from escaping.

Once they got home, Hérisson was put into Kat's bathroom, and I was left with the task of watching him while Kat went out to get hedgehog supplies. I didn't know what to do with him, so I just watched him run around and stopped him from going behind the washing machine.

When Kat got home, she treated him like any mother would treat their baby. She fed him and gave him a bath. The difference was that the food was dry cat food and the bath was given in the bidet (as can be seen in the picture). He was so dirty that the water in the bidet turned brown. We then had to put him in the bathtub as we let the bidet drain. After seeing how many bugs

were drowned in the bathtub, we put him back in the bidet, where Kat submerged him in order to make sure we got rid of them all. We then dried him off with paper towels, and left him to sleep in his warm little box.

Later that night, I was sitting in the living room talking to Kat, when who should I see toddling into the kitchen but Hérisson! He had climbed out of his box, and had decided to explore his new home! He was so cute and peppy after being so limp earlier in the day, we decided to let him run around the living room for the night. He literally did not stop moving for HOURS. We realized at that point that we couldn't possibly leave him alone by himself, since he was just so darn cute, so we ended up inviting friends over so they, too, could experience his adorableness.

The next day, we left him in the bathroom to sleep, and went about our day. However, when

Kat came home, he was crying, so instead of leaving him alone in the bathroom, she took him with her to the couch, where he promptly crawled into her jacket and fell asleep (as seen on right). He snores when he sleeps, so it is just super adorable. When she needed to get rid of him so she could eat, I selflessly volunteered to take him. As you can see in the first photo, he quite happily fell asleep on my arm. When I later needed use of said arm, I just moved him into my sweatshirt pocket. Basically, I was a kangaroo. That night, we fed him cat food and sausage, and once again he spent the entire evening running around the living room.

The next day, we filled up a water bottle with warm bottle for him to sleep next to. He actually purred when he snuggled up next to it. We left him there to sleep for the day, and, when he didn't wake up that night, we figured he just needed to sleep off the stress of the previous few days.

The next day was when things started to go badly. We went to check on him in the morning, and, while he was still alive, he was cold and limp when we picked him up. We tried to warm him up, but unfortunately, he still passed away. That night, we dug a grave for him by the Palais de la Berbie on the banks of the Tarn. We then went to a bar, and toasted his memory with Stella.

Other, non hedgehog-related events

Yesterday my day was chock-full of rugby. In the morning I went to O'sullivan's to watch the game with some friends. Two of them are pretty into french rugby, so it was really fun to be with people who were actually excited about the game. France won a close game against Wales, 9 to 8. My favorite part of those games always comes after, when everyone in the bar starts singing. I'm not entirely sure of the words, but I'm pretty sure it goes "Allez les bleus, Allez, Allez, Allez!" Not the most complex of songs (it essentially means "go blue, go, go, go!") but there is something really cool about having a bar full of people singing a song to support their countrymen.

Later that night, I went to a rugby game, Albi vs. Perigneux, with a bunch of my friends. I actually got really into it, particularly since it was a home game, so there were all these die-hard fans commenting on the game and chanting. It was so violent, way more than any American sport. At one point, this big fat player literally SHOVED a guy off the ruck and broke his leg!

They even had a half-time show with cheerleaders and a man dressed in a bumblebee costume (Albi abeille- nice aliteration). They were not good. Don't get me wrong, they could dance all right, but there were none of the acrobats that we in the US associate with cheerleading routines. The bee was actually the best dancer.

Albi won, so at the end there was a similar cheer: "Albigeois, Allez, Allez, Allez!" It was equally as infectious as the one earlier in the day.

It's late, so I am going to go to bed in my brand new (decades old but new for me!) bed. No more sleeping on the floor for Lindsay!