Being Barry White

Being Barry White comes with certain privileges. One can be as prickly as one feels on any given day. Curfew is nonexistent. People do not expect you to come home at any particular time or even day. In fact, a hedgehog can go missing for days without the slightest fear of censure or repercussions, merely exaltation at his homecoming.

Barry White is an albino African Pygmy Hedgehog. He has an attitude, a baritone singing voice, and a penchant for large winged insects. Like all new parents, it has taken us a few months to appreciate the depth of Barry's rich personality. We've taken our time getting to know one another and Barry White is slowly but surely finding his own literary voice. He has offered up a few blog submissions but as of yet the Editor-In-Chief of All Animal Blogs Raccoon has not accepted his contributions.

"Too wordy, "
"Not enough character development," 
"Unbelievable story line."

Ringo sends each creative tidbit back hoping to forever squash the Hedgehog's aspirations of becoming published. With each rejection Barry White's resolve has strengthened; his literary voice has grown. With a vocabulary that extends beyond his three months of life and a rich heritage of culture and intercontinental danger to draw from, Barry continues to tap out tales with his ten tiny Hedgie fingers.

 Whilst other season-old Hedgehogs snuffle around in search of a stray grub or insect, or stretch their fragile legs on special Hedgehog supporting exercise wheels, Barry White is driven to pen the plight of Hedgehogs everywhere. He is mature beyond his months and oft gruff. Not satisfied to spend his days sleeping and his nights on the prowl, he tackles life with a vengeance seen in only the most talented and driven individuals. In the halls of his new home, Barry White already commands respect and admiration from his peers. They call him poet. They whisper that he is the voice of his generation. All but one that is. The Raccoon watches him shuffle by with a barely concealed glare. Barry White feels the heat of the Raccoon's gaze on his back but it does not penetrate his spiny exterior. Inside his white pin cushion of skin- he is safe, at least for now.