Category Archives: Girlies

Patrick Hugo the Craziest of All

Because our weird Alaskan weather has it feeling like spring (which is when new animals tend to show up round here on this crazy little farm)…

And because the kids asked me the other day if we couldn’t get another hedgehog {{PULEEEEZZZE MAMA??!!!}}…

And, well, just because I kinda miss the prickly little fella that brought so much excitement to our household…

I decided to dust off a piece from a couple years back and relive one of the funnier seasons on our crazy little farm. Our sweet Patrick Hugo brought much excitement to us in his two short years of life. Sadly, he had a sudden onset of Wobbly Hedgehog Syndrome (I promise you I don’t make this stuff up) this past summer and my husband mercifully and tenderly sent him heavenward.

Every critter has something to teach us though, and Patrick Hugo taught us that even the littlest of us can cause a BIG stir.

And more so, He taught us that God is always listening, in our big trials, and in the little prickly ones 🙂

MARCH 2012 100

October, 2012

Probably the most exciting event to take place round here this month involved the smallest and prickliest of us, Patrick Hugo our hedgehog. He’s recently come into his own.

As in the past month or so he’s developed a habit of whooping it up in his cage between the hours of 1 a.m. and 6 a.m. He turns his pen into a regular little mosh pit, banging his dishes up against the sides and wreaking general havoc. Being that his cage is in the room directly above our bed, this has turned into many sleepless hours for me, which results in me getting out of bed, coming upstairs and moving his cage into the bathroom where he can mosh to his heart’s content.

After a few nights of this, I realized he would probably be a much happier hedgehog if he could get out and about and roam the wide open range of the potty room all night long.

So I let him out.

And he was much like a teenage boy moving into the basement. He turned it into a rec room and made his own, flopping his little prickly body wherever and whenever he wanted. We’d find him curled up behind the toilet, scampering wildly under the vanity, sleeping peacefully inside the package of toilet paper on the floor of the linen closet. We just let him have run of the bathroom and kept the door closed.

We cohabitated peacefully with this arrangement until my daughter, sweet animal whisperer that she is, thought maybe he could use some company and brought him into the kitchen with her to chat and visit while she made tea.

And that was the last we saw of him.

The following are excerpts taken from my Facebook page.:

Oct. 30th:  Things tend to get interesting when there’s a hedgehog on the loose….
Nov. 1st:  Ok hedgehog…this isn’t funny.

Nov. 3rd: Left a dish of turkey out the size of a softball. Right on the floor of the room I suspect our prodigal hedgehog is holed up in. Upon doing a middle-of-the-night sneak check on him, the whole serving (which was bigger than him!) is g-o-n-e, as is most of the water in his water dish. It wasn’t my dogs, they were in lockdown. There is no other sign of Patrick Hugo the Hedgehog. This is one legendary hedgehog I’m dealing with here folks. An enigma. A prickly little enigma.

Nov. 4th:   FRIEND:  How’s the hedgehog hunt going?   ME: He remains in stealth mode. Live trap is the next objective. Extraction mission scheduled for 0200 hours. FRIEND: Are you going to break out the cammo and the face paint? I want pictures!  ME: Change in strategy. Disassembled room subject originally occupied. Negative result. Proceeding with isolation tactics. Turkey and traps engaged.

NOTE:  Prayers from our church family were engaged at Sunday night church. My nine year old (our hedgehog whisperer) sweetly raised her hand during prayer request time and asked the congregation to pray that we would find our hedgehog. Our sweet minister did just that. With a straight face, bless him.

Nov. 5th:   Patrick Hugo isolated to three possible roms. Tore apart room we *thought* he was in, and realized he was just visiting long enough to devour the food I leave out. Live trap slipped, turkey meat gone. We now know what four rooms he is NOT in. Between trying to hunt and secure the lone-wolf roaming Hedgehog, the vet coming out at noon to spay our barn cat on the kitchen table, and Suey the guinea pig, whose pelvic bones indicate she is due to give birth any second, I am beginning to wonder if we’ve become “THAT” homeschooling family…

Nov. 5th: Patrick Hugo was extricated today at approximately 1200 hours after a six-day abscence from his normally assigned restroom habitat. One live trap, an extensive Facebook advisory panel, eight turkey breast bait bowls, two herd dogs w/ malfunctioning hedgehog herding insincts, one pair of tired parents, three medium sized ranch hands and one naked preschooler were utilized in the ongoing rescue mission, all with negative results. The power of prayer coupled with mama’s big muscles is what finally led to the discovery of this prickly pet in deep hiding underneath the biggest bookshelf in the house (the one that holds all the household Bibles, dictionaries and encyclopedias). Though dehydrated and a little thin, the normally grouchy critter responded uncharacteristically, displaying affection and a peppiness that can only be attributed to gratefulness. He is celebrating his reunion with a dish of banana-mealworm-turkey mush and some wayfaring R&R in his cage. Where he is assigned to stay for a long time. A very.. long..time. {{{ I think he kinda missed us ♥ }}}

© Cassandra Rankin, This Crazy Little Farm
More fun animal posts:

Little Princess

So I’ve been teaching the girls at church how to be a princess. And isn’t it when you teach the most you learn the most?

And how can I tell a room full of six to eleven year olds, their big eyes hanging on my every word, and not believe it myself?

I can’t.

So when He tells us right there in our Princess Manual that I’ve been adopted into His royal family, that I am His daughter which makes me an heir, that He is my King and He is enthralled by my beauty, well, when He tells us that right there and signs it all in red ink, I need to tell them. And I need to believe it too.

A princess? Me?

Them, yes. Of course them. Their sweet, precious, innocent soft faces. Their eyes big as we read together from a chapter book. Their proud smiles as they show me how hard they worked to memorize the verse I wrote for them on the board. Their faces lovely and untainted just yet by too much of what the world has to offer them. Unblemished, free of too much world-ugly.

Of course they are princesses, each and every one.

My princesses, the two that live here with me, well their Daddy calls them his Warrior Princesses. Muddy feet and messy hair and mosquito bites on their legs, they hold their big brother down and if it’s a happy day, tickle him. If it’s an angry day they might just hold him down. And their Daddy tells them a story at bedtime about two Warrior Princesses and their adventures. It’s a years-long story. And they delight in it. And deep down they know they are really the princesses in their Daddy’s story.

And how can you be a princess for ten years and know it, but then when you teach the little girls at church, you discover it all over again?

Ten years.

My mama, she acts like a princess because she’s brave and strong in her battles. My one friend, she brings love and light and beauty to everything she touches. I have another princess friend who would feed the whole world if her castle kitchen would allow it. And another is princessly by getting right to the truth of a matter. Another talks to animals and they listen. And one, well she suffered so much loss in her life you’d think her mama princess heart might just fall out of her beautiful chest one day but she somehow keeps it in there and manages to love…oh, she loves with the biggest hugs you’ve ever known and a song so beautiful you’ve never heard such a sound and a smile so bright it really could light up a city.

Yes, I know some princesses.

And now I know fifteen more. Little princesses. Jesus’ princesses.

So I’m learning, again, deep down, I’m the princess in the story.

You’re the princess in the story.

When you belong to the King, when you are daughter to the Most High, when you are no longer a foreigner or an alien, but a fellow citizen with God’s people and members of God’s household (Eph 2:19)…we get to be princesses together.

Not a Disney princess or a TV princess or a princess that has to wear a ball gown even. No, you are a princess who has a royal Daddy and He adores you and your mosquito bitten legs.

And even if you didn’t have one that told you bedtime stories when you were little…or if the bedtime stories he told were painful ones…our royal Daddy takes all that in His big strong arms and He says here, nail it all up there and leave it because I AM STRONG and I LOVE YOU and you don’t need to carry that around anymore because it’s just.too.heavy and I want You to carry around my love instead. It’s a lot lighter and I custom made you for that job and you are beautiful and you belong to me and I know you can do it.

And then He shows us how. He says I’ll show you how much I love you and I’ll show you how to live as my daughter, my princess.

We get to choose that. We get to choose to be royalty. He tells us right there in the Princess Manual, John, 1: 12 that those who believed in His name, he gave the right to become children of God. I get to pick Him! And then in picking Him, He shows me how He really picked me first. From the beginning of time. He’s just been waiting for me to say yes, Daddy, and traipse my muddy feet over onto His walkway where He’s waiting arms open for me to come in.

And the bedtime story, that years-long story, ten years now and finally, finally, I realize, it’s really me! He’s talking about me! Instead of Once Upon a Time though it says right now, today. This is it. You are royalty and The LORD your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing. (Nehemiah 3:17)

And that makes me feel like a princess. A Warrior Princess. A muddy feet and messy hair princess that has a Daddy who loves her very, very much.

Because of that I can teach those little precious girls that they are Princesses too.

That they are each and every one, Jesus’ Little Princess.

The king is enthralled by your beauty; honor him, for he is your lord. Psalm 45:11

Crown

© Cassandra Rankin, This Crazy Little Farm