Armenian Porcupine in the Wild

After four weeks of meticulous tender loving care the Armenian porcupine was released into the wild on my property in the village of Jrambar. The area is purportedly loaded with porcupines so he will undoubtedly make some true friends very soon. 

My father-in-law Levon had been nourishing the porcupine (he remained nameless to avoid attachment) in his apartment ever since he brought him home from the vivarium. They had told him to feed the critter ground beef and some fruits like apples or apricots. For several days the little guy barely showed himself, apparently still reeling from the fall. Slowly but surely he started to come out of his hiding places -- he liked to move whenever he suspected that Levon found his nest. 

Levon would often have difficulty locating him, leaving bits of food in different spots to figure out where he was chilling out. Once in a while the porcupine permitted Levon to "pet" him, which meant the porcupine would drop down his defenses by allowing his quills to recede, making the caressing process a bit easier.  This morning at breakfast he decided to bite Levon's hand, perhaps because he was sensing that he was about to be evicted. 

We transported the porcupine in a small cardboard box designed for an electric tea kettle, so it was cosy accommodations for the 40 minute ride. In the meantime I was often concerned he would break out and get under my feet while driving; I kept looking down the entire way.

Once he was taken out of the box and put on the ground, he start stiffing around while a spider started crawling across his face. After a few minutes he started to wander off. I was able to follow his tracks only for a short time before he finally disappeared after I turned my back for a few minutes.


There's plenty of shady spots for him to snooze under and bugs galore on which to feast. Something tells me he'll have a blast out there. Better than an unprotected balcony on Sayat Nova Street any day.


Anonymous said…
What a lovely post. Thanks for caring for the poor creature.
Vagabonde said…
Little Areg is a sweet baby. My daughter had another son about 3 weeks ago, I’ll have to tell her about the song. I liked your story about the porcupine – he is a lucky fellow.
You told me that I should write about my father’s problem with the French administration about citizenship. I am going to write several posts about my father, starting with his youth in Istanbul. My father was an “apatride” when he was in France and married my mother. Apatride means without a country. He was born and raised in Turkey, so I wonder why did he not have Turkish citizenship? I guess Turkey did not recognize Armenian citizens? Would you have someone there you could ask why Armenians from Turkey were considered without a country? I’d like to write about it in my blog but cannot find any info on this.
Hi Vagadonde,

I don't know very much about the history of Armenians in Istanbul, but you can find many recent articles on Hetq about the ups and downs of life there, and you'll find some historical information as well in several articles. Go to

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