Thursday 15th June 2006

At last Harry and I have been to see Mole. We went yesterday afternoon, although as some of the previous mole hills in the garden seem to be collapsing into holes because of the dry weather I wasn’t feeling at my most generous to the moles of the world. However, this particular mole was really rather sweet and despite the fact that Harry had originally stolen a treasured possession from her, made us feel most welcome.

Harry cleared his throat and then said “Well you remember I told you that I had found out that the dealer I had sold your ring to had then sold it to a lady who wanted it for her little girl’s doll”

“Oh yes” said mole, “but have you found out any more?”

“Sort of” said Harry. The poor mole looked dejected, so Harry hurried his story along a bit “Well actually we have done better that find out some more. Alfie here” at which point I wagged my tail and knocked several things off the small table, but fortunately without breaking them, “Alfie here” repeated Harry “has been to talk to the little girl.”

This was my cue to get the little package out, but before I could mole was jumping up and down saying “what happened Alfie, what happened?” I couldn’t find any words so I just passed the package over to mole, who opened it with such care that I thought we were never going to get to see the contents. Once the paper was opened there in the middle, on a small piece of cotton wool, sat a tiny ring. Mole opened her mouth to speak but no words came out and she just sat down on the floor, clutching the ring, with tears streaming down her little brown face. By the time she could speak it was to say she didn’t know how she could ever thank us enough. She seemed to have completely forgotten that if Harry had not stolen it in the first place there would never have been a problem. I said I would appreciate it if she could persuade the other moles to stop digging up our garden and she smiled and said she wasn’t sure they would listen but she would certainly try. Then to Harry’s embarrassment, she went over to him and hugged him. Well as Harry said afterwards, there aren’t many people who will hug a hedgehog at the best of times, the prickles tend to put them off, but he seemed to have very much appreciated it and went a funny pink colour every time I mentioned it. If the moles stop digging holes in our garden that would really be a result as well, I’m fed up of chasing a frisbee and finding I disappear down a hole, besides which digging is my prerogative! In fairness I have only had one shot at digging and my mistress made it clear it wasn’t to happen again.