Real ones, furry ones; they were curious about why I'd like such an 'odd' little animal so much. I think I was conditioned by Beatrix Potter, see. When I see a hedgehog doing their thing, snuffling and waddling about, what I see is a kindly older northern lady (probably from Yorkshire, or possibly Lancashire) in a flour-covered apron, hands on (implausibly wide) hips, calling out that the kettle's on and there's fresh cake if you're quick about it.
It's probably silly, but it is a very hard image to shake, and it always puts me in mind of Pleasant Company and Comfort.
