Baby Hedgehog
Someone accidentally trod on this little creature whilst they were out for a walk during the daytime. Hedgehogs seen during the day are often in trouble – especially when a size 9 boot stomps on top of you, spikes and all. Thankfully there was enough guilt to call us and we came to pick him up and bring him to further care.
The finder wasn’t home when we got there, but we saw a couple of boxes outside the front door which we thought might contain our patient. The first was empty and the second turned out to be a box made to act as a bunk-up for a cat to reach the cat flap in the front door. On a second knock, the door opened and we were brought to the hedgehog.
He was about 12 cm long and lay motionless under some towels in a deep cardboard box. It was difficult to bend over and grab him carefully as I was off-balance, but it was just about possible without me falling into the box myself.
And I know you’re going to guffaw here, but he was much pricklier than I expected! I’ve only ever picked up a hedgehog once before. He was an adult, so I could hold him underneath his body where it was soft. But this little fellow was not only smaller with less soft underside, but he was very nervous and curled into a ball. Result – picking up a prickly ball.
Where he gets help from depends on his weight. If he’s small then he can’t feed himself and will need overnight care at a specialised small mammal rescue centre (so a trip back to the base where an external driver will be hired to bring him there – quite a distance away). Larger hedgehogs can be taken directly to our local rescue centre where he will be in a warm, safe environment, and be able to feed himself over night when there’s no staff onsite. (It was a surprise to learn the animals are alone overnight.)
There seems to be some discussion as to what constitutes a “small” hedgehog. One without teeth so they can’t use a teated bottle? Or do we go by weight? A couple of weeks ago it was the former, but today we were told that 100g was the upper weight limit for a baby hedgehog. This one weighed in at 168g which meant we could take him to the local rescue centre. (It also meant we could use this box instead of that box; we’d brought 2 out of the ambulance with us depending on where we’d need to bring the baby.)
He seemed to be more comfortable once he was inside the rescue box, moving and snuffling around, but in retrospect I wonder whether we had simply woken him up.
I’ve moaned about the roadworks before in our area which meant we needed to drive an extra 3 km, made all the worse because we drive past the rescue centre and then double-back to it. The driver showed me a tiny shortcut across a grass verge that works equipment use – but it’s too small for the ambulance. Handy information to know, because next week I’ll be starting more volunteer work at that rescue centre! (I’ll write something about that later).
Near the rescue centre are fields with alpacas. I told the driver that in South America, to say a girl had eyes like an alpaca was a compliment. I also mentioned cows in the Netherlands have beautiful brown eyes, but I was strongly warned against calling a girl here a cow!
Tiny Bat
The next rescue call was for a bat who’d been found by a cat. The (human) finder mentioned that if the cat had caught a mouse she wouldn’t have done anything, but a bat was different. Hmmmmm….
The finder was left with instructions to place a bucket over the bat and put a stone on top to make sure that there was no gap between the rim of the bucket and the ground. Even a few millimeters and the bat would be able to escape.
The driver carefully helped with the bucket whilst I crouched nearby with my gloved hands ready to grab the bat. I’ve never picked one up before (neither had the driver who’d started with the animal ambulance the same time as me), but I assumed it was in the same way as a bird – firmly, and clasping the wings so they can’t fly away.
The bucket went up and my hands went underneath it. I felt no bat. I saw no bat. There was no bat hanging from the bottom (top) of the upside down bucket. Then the finder spotted him on the ground – I’d missed him because he was so small, not more than 5 cm! I thought he was already dead because he didn’t move at all. He was too small for me to use both hands and grab the wings, but I maneuvered him onto my palm.
The poor thing seemed stiff, and I remembered how quickly rigor mortis sets in with some animals and I feared the worst. Suddenly we saw the tiny mouth open! This was excellent, and I placed him into the smallest of our boxes (which was still incredibly over-sized for this little bat!).
We brought him to a bat expert (Yes! They exist!!!), passing my old place of employment on the way and thinking I was lucky to be doing what I was doing now and not doing what I did then! The bat expert met us in the hallway of a building with many offices, and lead us into a meeting room and closed the door so the bat wouldn’t fly outside.
Batlady
From the point of view of someone who knows nothing about bats, the bat expert knew more than her onions!!
This small male adult bat, gripping her plastic gloves with his tiny claws, was identified as a “northern pipistrelle bat”. (The ‘original’ Dutch name is ruige dwergvleermuis which literally translated means “rough dwarf mouse”).
Batlady was very thorough examining Pipi; his body showed signs of “…what looks like a cat attack” (Correct! We hadn’t told her that yet!), his mouth, legs, feet and wings. She pointed out a strange lump on the upper side of his wing which she explained was his thumb, and that meant that bats are the happiest flying creatures because “they fly with their thumbs up”!
I was amazed when she opened Pippi’s wings – they’re a very thin layer of skin; not an aerodynamic balance of lift and thrust (I once had a manager who was proud he’d worked in the aerospace industry and tried to convince me a wing is sucked upwards rather than pushed upwards…). They’re much like a butterfly’s wing I suppose – they both fly as chaotically as each other, though only one of them, apparently, can cause either a hurricane or completely change the course of the future (which a hurricane can also do…)
Surprisingly we could hear the bat screeching. Batlady told us it was stress calling. The bat was afraid and made these noises to get its bearings and find out where he was.
The good news was she thought he’d be fine in 24 hours. She’d take him home with her and feed him, and then release him back into the wild. And if things went badly, she had contact with a specialised bat rescue centre. (I’m always amazed to hear what the Netherlands has to offer!)
There was some fluffing about over the administrative side of things – she completed a Finder’s Form and we took a photo of it for THE SYSTEM and left her with the original paper copy which always stays by the animal. Except she didn’t want it. our protocol says she needed to have it, so like power to Macbeth, we thrust it upon her.
Bats have good immune systems which is why they carry many diseases. Batlady advised us to call the finder and warn her to get her cat checked for or vaccinated against rabies. When the driver called, she checked first whether the cat that caught the bat was indeed the finder’s. I thought this was really good attention to detail because it could have been anyone’s cat (or a stray) that got hold of the little flying mammal.
Yes, it was her cat, and it turned out she’d already called her vet and had her cat checked. Evidently she knew more than we did, so another interesting learning point!
The other way of seeing this lesson is that a bite from a bat doesn’t lead to vampirism or even superheroism, but can lead to a fear of water. An anti-aquaman if you will, and we all know how crap aquaman is.
Not a Fat Cat
Our last rescue call was picking up an old, skinny cat from a vet. She was found wandering the street by one of the vet’s clients, and brought to the veterinary surgery for care (which is what I’d have done before I’d heard of the animal ambulance).
(As a slight aside, there were roadworks near the vet so the road was blocked off. The traffic officer standing nearby saw our ambulance and moved the cones for us! 🙂 )
The cat had a lot of fleas which made me worry given her light weight – only 1.9 kg for an adult. I’d already lost a kitten to fleas. The vet reported she had 2 missing incisor teeth as well as several molars.
She was tame so we thought she had an owner, though evidently they had not been around each other for a long while. But with no chip there was no way of contacting the owner and getting them reunited, so we were to bring her to the rescue centre.
The rescue centre was closed when we get there because like many places in the Netherlands, things close down on Mondays. The animal ambulance is prepared for this, and has arrangements with the rescue centre for bringing in cats out of hours – we’ve been given a key which lets us in, and a dedicated place to leave cats. There are also facilities so we can make sure the cats have food and water, and a cat litter.
The cat cages are arranged in 2 columns and 3 rows. We have instructions to fill the cages from the middle row first, then the top, and lastly the bottom. I should ask why, but for now I guess it’s easier to pick cats from body height or a little higher rather then bending down.
I love and hate bringing cats here. I love seeing so many cats, miaowing for attention and affections. Personally, I find it easier to read body language from a cat (or dog) than I do from birds and small mammals, so it’s easier to react. One cat there wasn’t happy at all. He paced up and down his cage growling (yes, growling!) and showing his teeth. The trouble was he was in a cage in the middle row, and it happened to be directly underneath the top row cage where we were placing our skinny cat.
In practice, this meant my belly rubbed against his cage front as I leaned in to place the food, water and cat litter above. That didn’t make him happy either!
On the other hand, it’s so saddening to see so many cats that need help. Thankfully it’s rescue centres like this who help cats (and other animals) recover, and then help to find them a home with humans who’d like to adopt them, love them, and give them a second chance.
Back to Base and Home
The route back to base inevitably passed roadworks, so like last time, I directed the driver through some back roads to minimise the fuss. This cunning route passes my own house (which is how I know about it!), so I ‘warned’ my wife who waved to us as we drove past!
We got back to base late, but I still needed to wash the cat carrier. As luck would also have it, the co-driver for the next shift works at the local rescue centre. And as luck would have it even more…I’ve got my first shift there as an animal carer in a few days, so she told me a bit more about it, and I’m even more I’m excited to begin!
