Badger Bill

I spoke to a dairy farmer some time ago, and inadvertently mentioned the B word.
Oh dear.
Twenty minute later I was none the wiser but acutely aware that he might suffer some sort of episode if we didn't change the subject.
It's one of those subjects that makes running about in a darkened room full of rakes look safe.

It's actually rather difficult to get hold of an unbiased, well informed opinion on the subject, and factual analysis of the management of badgers and their part in bovine tuberculosis is as varied as the personalities involved.
Mix in the popular press and it quickly becomes a choice between "bless their little furry faces" and "blow their fuckin' heads off", neither of which really helps.

Actions speak louder than badgers, however, and what was once a political hot potato has had its chips.

Despite all the rhetoric, the Great British Badger Apocalypse is now mired in confusion, contradiction and fingers-crossed optimism.
It has the hallmark of an ill advised political cock up that does little to solve the issues of either party,  farmer or conservationist.

As a subject, though, I felt it justified a comment.
The badger was made out of carpet tiles, the banner from a spare length of damp proofing but it was the brackets that attached it that took the time.
30feet of plastic with a badger attached wrapping itself round someones windscreen was not going to endear me or our stripy friends to anyone, so a lot of effort went into bolting it tight to the railings.

It lasted nearly three days, which was a surprise.
In that time literally thousands of motorists will have passed beneath it, and I'd like to think that my small gesture had contributed to the whole issue in a modest way.

The reality is I just couldn't resist the pun.