"There she goes again."
They didn't know then that she was a 'she', but something about her waddling walk reminded them of a busy woman about her business.
It was about 4pm on a late afternoon in May, and Alf and Betty were sat in the summer house, camping heater on and hot cups of tea in hand, trying to pretend that summer had arrived.
They watched as the huge hedgehog clambered out from behind the vegetable bed, scurried across the path and disappeared behind next door's shed - an action replay of last night, and every other night, for the last couple of weeks.
It was lovely to see, but did present them with a bit of a dilemma.
Hedgehogs were becoming somewhat of a rarity - even in rural Lancashire - so they were thrilled to be seeing one so frequently in the garden. However, as hedgehogs are more usually seen at dusk, they were a little worried seeing her out in broad daylight so often, and all of the online information Alf had found said that a hedgehog out in daylight is a hedgehog in trouble, and that help should be sought by taking it to a rescue centre.
"Go and get that cardboard box out of the spare room and I'll run it up to Tiggywinkles," he said.
Betty hesitated. "I don't want to, I like her being here. Let's just keep our eye on her for a few more days," she suggested hopefully.
Unused to being challenged, Alf stood up dramatically, hands in the air. "On your "ead be it then. Don't come crying to me if it all ends in tears."
Betty now felt unsure. What if Alf was right and something terrible happened? Maybe they should just do as he said.
But for some reason, instinct held her back. The hedgehog was large, moving well, seemed purposeful, and was obviously keeping a routine, so she decided to hold her ground; to watch and wait.
The hedgehog's routine continued, monitored closely by Betty, and about a week later, with the weather much improved, she was sat lower down in the garden on the patio, G&T in hand and enjoying a book and the sunshine.
Alf was inside, as he had been since the disagreement the previous week, choosing to read his newspaper and do his crossword alone.
A sudden rustling directed Betty's attention to the foliage below, and before her very eyes, the hedgehog climbed up over the low wall and began to follow what was clearly her usual route, around the perimeter of the garden and up through the vegetable patch, before crossing the path and disappearing, as usual, behind next door's shed.
Beside herself with excitement, Betty rushed inside to tell Alf, thrilled to have found out a little more of the hedgehog's routine and eager to share the news.
Reluctantly, on hearing the news, Alf allowed himself to be persuaded to venture out for a look, but all was quiet.
"For goodness sake Betty, stop dragging me out for nothing. Haven't you got anything better to do than sit waiting for wildlife to appear?"
Dismayed, she realised she didn't - have anything better to do, that is.
She hadn't realised how dull her days had become since their youngest had left home; how unimportant the cooking and cleaning suddenly felt.
It didn't seem to have had the same impact on Alf, he still had his mates at work and the darts team twice a week - nothing had really changed for him, and she felt like the paper and crossword took priority once he got home.
A little later, Betty was sat in the garden, mulling all this over whilst nursing a coffee. When had she started to feel like this?
Deflated, but not put off, she had maintained her watch, the excitement and anticipation brightening up her days for the rest of the week and giving her something to look forward to each day.
Absentmindedly, she watched as the yellow flowers of the shrub nodded somewhat more vigorously than usual. Suddenly alert, she cocked her head and listened. She hadn't seen the hedgehog for a few days now and had begun to prepare herself for the reality of another wave of empty nest syndrome.
What she was not prepared for, was the sight of a tiny snout emerging from the Dahlias. Quietly, she edged closer to the wall, peering over it into the dark tangle of the undergrowth below, and as she watched, not one, not two, not even three, but four tiny hoglets shuffled out from the gloomy shade into the sunlight to root around in the detritus, obviously looking for food.
Elation immediately turned to panic. Where was the mother? What if they couldn't look after themselves? What if they tumbled to their death? The ledge where they had emerged from was atop the precipice of a five foot stone wall.
Heart in her mouth, Betty ran inside to share the news - and the sudden responsibility of a whole new family - with Alf.
He wasn't there. Of course he wasnt, it was Friday - darts night, and he wouldn't be back until 9pm which could well be too late.
In a panic, Betty made a snap decision. She would drive up to Tiggywinkles herself and ask their advice.
As she snatched up her handbag and the car keys, she tried to ignore the voice in her head telling her that she hadn't driven for over five years; not since she reversed into next door's wall and ruined Mabel's favourite rose bush. Alf had said that she should leave the driving to him after that, and she hadn't argued.
But this was an emergency! Holding her breath, she started the engine and reversed out of the drive - so far so good.
As she headed out of town, she began to relax. "I can do this!" the little voice said.
A few minutes later, up by the reservoir, she pulled into the driveway and onto the carpark of the animal sanctuary.
As she entered the building and approached the enquiry desk, her attention was drawn to a notice board and a poster, displaying a photograph of a family of hedgehogs.
Underneath was a notice,
"Volunteers Needed"
Could you give a few hours a week to help this little family and others like them?"
Slowly, Betty smiled. She had found what she was looking for - Purpose.
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