With their sensitive hearing, the sound of a sneeze or even the turning of a book page will set them off into a fit of shivers. Not exactly shivers, but they snort their little noses and, to a bystander, it might look as if they are angry, but really they’re just scared––they’re timid little animals.

I have two hedgehogs, Tilly, who is two, and Lulu, who is almost two months old. Acquiring the skill to be a hedgehog whisperer is no easy task. That’s why I don’t whisper to my hedgehogs; that would freak them out.

During the night, they spend their time eating gourmet vegetables, sesame seeds, and hedgehog grains, with the occasional insect here or there––if I have the guts to give them some.

I truly am not sure how it came about that my family decided to have pet hedgehogs, but I knew that because of my family’s history of allergies from dust to cat saliva, our best bet was something that wore a skin of quills. Although their quills do not eject themselves like those of porcupines, I can honestly say they’ve poked me when they’re running around on the floor and snuggling into my stomach.

Many people think hedgehogs are huge like porcupines, but really, they’re the exact opposite. They’re little balls of quills that have cute little “hog” noses, and “hedge-like” body structure, thus giving them the name “hedgehog.”

Without my little critters, I wouldn’t have anyone to stay up with or anyone whose little paws “pitter-patter” on their wheels as my fingers “pitter-patter” across the keyboard typing up my AP Euro essay. I love their little quills, and even though they might poke me or poop on me from time to time, I’ve learned to love them for their odd little quirks.