Hedgehogs, two off.
We were out on the motorbike and she spotted 2 hedgehogs on a busy road, so we had to stop to move them to safety.
Then she got the bright idea we should take them home instead because “they’re good for the garden”. We had nothing to carry them in, so of course they had to go inside my shirt – couldn’t be hers because they’d get squashed between us – or so I was told.
They weren’t too happy about that, nor was I, the little pricks.
But we got them back to our place safely, she put a saucer of milk out for them and left them loose in the back garden.
Next morning they had disappeared, but I still had all the reminder punctures on my belly. That wasn’t a real problem though, it was the itching.
No one had ever told me hedgehogs can carry 10 times their body weight in fleas, and those fleas decided my motor bike gear was Utopia. It took ages to get rid of the little feckers.
You’d think job done, but a few miles into a ride and the itch would start. I get itchy just thinking off it to this day over 40 years later.