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Last Updated on 7 January 2021 by Badger

BREAKING NEWS!! The 2020 badger cull has started. 

 

Many of you know that an anonymous author living in a new culling zone within Somerset wrote a blog throughout the six weeks of the 2020 badger cull, recording their thoughts, feelings and experiences.

The blog proved hugely popular and is still available to read.

Now another author living in a cull zone has written a short two-part blog. They’ve titled the blog ‘The Badger Cull: Love and Pain’.

It describes why the author hates the badger cull. What they hate about the cull and how it has changed them as a person.

It’s one person’s honest opinion, and we’re sure many of you will relate to that.

Part 1 is below. Part 2 will follow next month.

Thanks go to Sam Cannon Art for her kind permission to use her artwork. Please note that Sam is not the blog author. Visit http://samcannonart.co.uk/ to view more of Sam’s beautiful artwork.

The Badger Cull: Love and Pain

Part 1

I hate the badger cull.

I hate the futility of it, the false science, the false hope it gives to dairy farmers and the absolute cruelty of it.

I hate that DEFRA thinks it is ok to for an animal to take five minutes to die – put your timer on and set it for five minutes and wait. That is not ‘quick’, and the dying certainly won’t be painless.

I hate the disruption it causes to the lives of the ‘lucky’ badgers that miss the bullet.

Badgers are highly social creatures with relationships.  What do they think when a member of the clan does not come home or drags itself back to the sett bleeding out from a bullet wound.

These noble creatures were here long before humans and should be here long after we have gone.  They follow ancient paths and tracks that have been used by generation after generation.  I hate to think that this could no longer be the case.

I hate what the badger cull has done to me.

The woods and countryside have always been my sanctuary, my safe place.  The place I escape to in moments of anguish or to sort out dilemmas in my head.

Years ago when my life was not as it is now, I used the woods to hide in, once from the landlady when the rent was due and once from an abusive boyfriend (long gone!).

Now it feels like a war zone.  As I walk the tracks and paths I know so well, I am constantly searching for signs and thinking – is that a cage in the undergrowth?  Is that a bait point in that field?  Is ‘my’ sett still active?  Is that latrine fresh, and are there peanuts in it?

No more aimlessly wandering down grassy tracks daydreaming.  No more laughing as I take cover under a tree during a downpour and watch the finches squabble as they pick seeds off the trees.