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blizzard warnings - 13:52 , 03 October 2013

heelerless - 21:32 , 18 August 2013

Red Coat Inn in Fort McLeod - 11:38 , 23 June 2013

rushing into the waters - 09:53 , 21 June 2013

choosing a spot - 17:43 , 27 April 2013

10 August 2008 - 23:31

the south end of a north-bound badger

The call came at seven-thirty.

"Well, hello there..." said a sexy female voice at the other end. "Guess what I've got for you?"

'The buzzer for dinner is going off in two minutes' was my terse reply.

"It's going off now!" says the wife as she hustles out of the room.

"Well, this is from the Chief of Police" the lady on the phone responds indignantly.

What town?

"Yours."

Oh. Okay. At least it's close.

What's he got?

"He says he's got a badger on the 200 block of 8th, and he's waiting there for you."

Okay. Tell him I'm on my way.

If it wasn't for needing my barrel, I could've walked. It's only two blocks away. 'Course, in this tiny town, nothing is more than four or five blocks away...

I arrive to find the Chief's SUV and the town's cop car out front. A gaggle of kids across the street watching and waiting. A young husband and wife accompany the cop who comes out to greet me.

This counts as free entertainment in our small town.

They've got the badger cornered in a back yard. Right next to the Chief's house.

I've got four people behind me, but only I step through the gate. The Chief has three or four folks with him, snapping pictures.

Everybody safely on the other side of chain link fence except me.

And the badger.

Who is actually behaving quite calmly. Strolling across the perfectly manicured green lawn like he's a household pet.

Until I get close. Then the chase is on.

All the time I'm facing off with this hissing, pissed badger in the hollyhocks, the chief is telling everyone "Don't worry, it's all a bluff."

Well, it is until the badger feels cornered. Then things'll be different.

The badger runs into a narrow gap between the garage and fences. They store snow shovels back here, and I can't turn them broadside to get them out of the way.

It's a tight fit.

Badger tries to dig out under the far fence.

It's concrete. That attempt doesn't last long. The badger turns.

There's only one way out.

Through me.

Either I get the badger...

Or the badger gets me. No other way for it.

I get the badger. Barely. My noose around its neck, but nothing else.

Badgers don't really have a neck. They just kinda have a head mounted on their shoulders. I've had tight nooses slip off badgers before if I didn't also have a shoulder or front leg snared.

But this fellow isn't cooperating.

Fortunately, by the time I drag said badger out from behind the garage, the town cop has brought in my barrel and laid it down. Slide in the badger, lift the barrel, pop the noose and we're done.

Except for everyone taking pictures with their cell phones.

Of the pissed off badger in the barrel.

Ahhh, I love the smell of badger in the evening.

A short drive north of town, and I have to dump him to get the badger out of the barrel.

And I am soon greeted with a welcome sight...

The south end of a north-bound badger.

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