Chuq makes a pointer to the "How to properly fold a cat" page, and it notes "never attempt this with a badger".
In the first in a series on "how did my brother manage to survive to adulthood", here's something else to not do with a badger....
My brother came in one night, looking for something a little more sturdy than the playskool plastic golf club he was holding. I asked him why, since I didn't want him running off with one of my hockey sticks or baseball bats to do stupid stuff.
He tells me that there's this *really big*, *really flat* animal out back, and he was attempting to get it to move by whacking it with the plastic club.
Huh?
Figuring my brother had actually been beating the snot out of a shag rug, I turned on the back porch light and saw one really big, really, really pissed off badger. Why, while my brother was smacking it, it just didn't turn around and rip him to pieces is a mystery (as every other animal in the neighbourhood took turns biting, scratching or pecking him), but it wasn't going to get a second chance.
To a shout of "you stupid f*ck, that's a badger!", wildlife control was called, and my brother's extracurricular activites came to an end--that evening, anyway.
Posted by lsefton at November 4, 2003 06:48 AM