It is hard sometimes to pick the next picture after one of those rare spectacular scenes and I would have had a rare photo opportunity last night, but some idiot didn’t have the camera with. When I was mowing, I found three large freshly dug holes in my yard. I didn’t know if it was a woodchuck or a badger. The way the dirt was thrown back I suspected a badger and when I raced down to feed the fish before dark, two badgers came waltzing in and one came to the pond not very far away from me to get a drink. A frog hopped quickly in the pond to get away from the rather fierce looking critter.
But instead of their normal aggressive behavior, the two badgers seemed rather lovesick with each other, and the whole time I was watching them I was cussing myself out for not grabbing my camera since I had never been that close to a wild badger before.
I haven’t checked my lawn yet this morning since during the summer they normally use a new den each day and their burrows can be 30 feet long and 10 feet deep. Wisconsin got its nickname from the badger (course to me it should be the dairy cow instead). There was some lead miners in the far southwestern corner of the state in the 1830s who lived in temporary caves in the hillsides instead houses and the caves were described as badger dens and the miners were nicknamed badgers. And because of a few miners, I live in the Badger State instead of Dairy State.
I was surprised that the badgers weren’t more afraid of me since I was moving my arms when I was feeding my fish but they did seem a little love crazy as they were making noises and rubbing against each other and romping around. Mating does occur in late summer and early fall and since badgers experience delayed implantation, pregnancies are suspended until December or as late as February.
But since I don’t have a picture of the badger, because I didn’t take my camera along when I fed the fish, I guess I will have to use a picture of two other critters romping and rubbing each other.
Hereford Calves Playing
