Watching Miss Clover ambulate always reminds me of a flounder. Flat. Barely skimming the ground. The fringes of her coat fluttering like the edges of the flounder as it scoots along the ocean floor. She doesn’t exactly cut a graceful figure as she waddles along on stubby legs under an impossibly wide body. Nevertheless there is a jauntiness and seriousness of purpose that gives her a certain dignity.
Badgers are a much maligned species, but as is so often the case, their reputation is based on limited knowledge and experience, and an ungenerous misunderstanding. The myth is perpetuated by people who have never met a badger (“Oh, they are MEAN”). We love the drama of it. But the truth is much more interesting and fun. It is true that they can be what we might call ferocious:
Scene: Little Miss Clover running as fast as she can after a 6-foot man who himself is running as fast as he can … the man leaping on top of the first available source of safety which happens to be an empty kennel box … the man on tip toes looking down in terror at the snarling, growling bundle of fur trying to attach itself to his leg.
But she had a reason. Despite warnings he had picked her up by the scruff of her neck when she was a young girl, like a dog, with no feeling or respect. You don’t pick up badgers by the scruff of the neck. It is an insult. They have a very delicate dignity and a very long memory. It is also a punishment — that is where they grab mice and other prey to shake and kill them for food. She simply never forgave him. Or any other tall skinny 6-foot male who comes along (there is a limit to their capacity for discrimination).
As for the badger’s reputation as the meanest thing on four legs barring a wolverine (that is what you always hear) — Miss Clover follows us on walks enjoying the companionship; stays very close for safety in places that are new, and comes running up to the edge of her enclosure to greet us, full of curiosity and enthusiasm. And I have stood in an arena with five full grown wolverines standing on their hind legs, forepaws on my thighs asking for treats. An Austrian naturalist Peter Krott used to rescue and raise wolverines. A large male guarded Peter’s newborn infant with tender care. True. He has photos to prove it. He stated he would find it hard to live without their charming vitality around him.
As is true of her kind, Miss Clover does have a tendency to shoot first and ask questions later. Badgers do not subscribe to discretion as being the better part of valor. If they feel the vibration of an animal passing by their den the unfortunate individual is liable to be surprised by a chattering growling package of rage, charging at astounding velocity. But if you were small in a very big and dangerous world, and were so near sighted you were almost blind, wouldn’t that be a good defense? If you can’t see too well and it might be dangerous, attack first and develop a fearsome reputation. It is true, they do have a bit of a hair trigger temper … as I mentioned, they have a very delicate dignity and must be treated with the utmost respect. But that is entirely reasonable, many of us are the same, and that is not all there is to them. If you can get past the defense, they can be charming, playful, affectionate and very funny. Miss Clover will frequently be seen lying flat on her back, balancing her water dish on four legs and throwing it up in the air as she chatters to herself. A sound that is very like a human giggle draws the viewer’s attention to this occurrence. On a hot day she will wet her belly in her water dish, then lie on her back and fan herself vigorously. Gradually the pace of her fanning slows to a few feeble little movements as she starts to fall asleep. And the intensity with which she pursues her main love in life, digging, her entire being focused, shows a great passion for life.
One Comment
Nomad Lives by Jennifer Sauer
I enjoyed reading about Miss Clover. I have always LOVED badgers, and people have always thought I was crazy for it. (I even have a tatto of a badger) I actually appreciate the entire Mustelid family but badgers are my favorite. I know of a badger near Harlowton, MT named “Gilbert”. A rancher found him as a kit and raised him. He keeps all of the woodchucks out of the woodpile and barn. Thanks for the work you do to teach people about wild animals. IMO they are far more virtuous than any two-legged.
Comment by Denise — December 31, 2010 @ 1:59 pm