We were driving along the A303, minding our own business, when suddenly, out of nowhere, a massive badger leapt onto the road and started ambling towards our car. Gobsmacked and wide-eyed, we were utterly convinced this beast had plans to introduce us to the afterlife, whenquite out of the bluesomething rather unexpected happened
There we were, my husband Peter and I, cruising down the damp road that meandered alongside the woods. It was one of those eerie quiet evenings, drizzle tapping against the windscreen, and we were chattering away about what to have for tea when we got back to our cozy place in Winchester.
ThenBAM!right in front of us, this enormous badger materialised as if it had fallen from the sky. Peter slammed on the brakes. The car skidded, and I could swear my heart abandoned ship and took up residence somewhere in my ankles. The badger stopped dead in its tracks, barely a whisker from our bonnet, and reared up on its hind legs. It looked absolutely terrifying (well, as terrifying as a badger can manage). I thought for sure it was about to make a right mess of us.
It just stood there, unblinking, giving us a sort of intense you what? stare. Then, ever so slowly, it took a step towards the car. Like it owned the M25. I was convinced it was hungry and we were on the specials board. The closed windows suddenly didnt feel like much of a shield.
Peter flicked the car into reverse, inching backwards as quietly as a church mouse. We both knew if the badger wanted to eat us, reversing probably wouldnt cut it. I was frozen to the spotsomewhere between abject terror and morbid curiosity.
And then, the twist; oh, the twist! Out of nowhere, a gigantic old oak tree that had been creaking ominously on the roadside decided to throw in the towel. With a thunderous crash, it toppled and missed our Ford Focus by barely a hair. Honestly, another inch and it would have flattened us. I sat rigid, clutching my soggy Pret coffee cup, realizing wed just cheated fate by a whisker and about £20 in petrol.
As for the badgerwell, it bolted off like it had just remembered it left the kettle on. One second it was there, the next it had melted into the dusk-soaked woods, leaving nothing but silence in its wake.
Now I cant stop thinking about it. Did the badger want to attack us? Was it trying to warn us? Or maybe, like us, it simply couldnt handle all that noise and legged it. I havent a clue. But Ill never forget that steely glareand next time I see a badger, Ill probably just offer it my last Hobnob and hope for the best.
