You sat down beside me, but did not see me, that is until you looked down. Then you pulled a face, wondering if you could be contaminated by me. I kept still, so at first you thought perhaps that I might be dead. However I was fully dressed in my best straw coloured suit, so that you failed in your attempt to see my face. Maybe to you I looked like one of those prickly thistle balls that had grown too big.

Silence is my middle name, and today I lived up to it. Whilst you were distracted I up and ran. So quietly, that did not see me go. You looked and looked, but could not find me, but I was watching from beneath a pile of twigs. Until that is, my nose twitched at the smell of a juicy slug.

Yours sincerely young Spike, the silent hedgehog.

P.s. Could you ask the farmer, if next time he cuts silage, he might give me some notice. He nearly took my nose off.