I was about a quarter of the way through my Saturday morning
long run. It was a fairly nice day…overcast and a bit windy, but not too cold
for a nice morning run. I was just rounding the corner of Berbergweg (one of my
favorite running trails) when I encountered him
standing on the path before me. He was tumbling pile of fur, claws, and
whiskers. His ears and the sides of his face were black, contrasting the thick
white stripe that ran down the middle of his nose and forehead. No, he wasn’t a
skunk (thankfully), but he was a large, bristle-furred, sharp-toothed, and somewhat
menacing-looking badger.
For those of you who know me well, you might recall that one
of my favorite book series as a kid was the Redwall books by Brian Jacques. If
you’ve ever entered the pages of Redwall then you are most likely aware that
the fiercest of all the animal warriors are unmistakably the badgers. According
to Jacques, once the badgers are filled with the blood-wrath known only to their
species, there is absolutely no chance of escape during battle.
And so, there I stood, frozen on the path, staring at the
badger, and trying desperately not to replay Redwall battle scenes in my head.
I thought that maybe if I could just skirt around to the side perhaps he
wouldn’t mind too much if I passed by. I could then continue peacefully with my
run. I cautiously took a step forward, but the badger was ready. He arched his
back and lifted his two front paws, hissing and snarling like a cat. Okay, now
comes the part where I should have probably turned around and made a run for it
back up the mountain. But, I was already halfway down the mountain and I had
seriously just spent the past 15 minutes running up the mountain. No way did I want to do that hill again. Not to
mention the best part of the trail was just beyond his furry body.
