A Very Good Badger
“Charming” is not a word used in wildlife rehabilitation, but everyone was secretly charmed by American Badger 24-936. More precisely, everyone was charmed by just the idea of this badger, since few folks at the clinic except for staff ever caught a glimpse of him.
The PWC hotline had received a report of a “lethargic” badger. Arriving in Nipomo, Rescue/Transport team members Morgan Nolan and Kathy Simpson found themselves in a manicured suburban neighborhood – not natural badger habitat. On a doorstep was an overturned cardboard Chewy box. The callers had placed the box over the animal to contain him. Knowing badgers’ reputation for ferocity and grouchiness and not detecting movement, Nolan and Simpson wondered if he was still alive. Then he growled.
This “amped up the adrenaline,” Nolan says. To keep both badger and humans safe, the transporters placed a big Rubbermaid bin with holes in it on the ground behind the box. They carefully lifted the box and used a grabber to coax the animal into the bin for transport to the clinic, where his intake examination revealed him to be a juvenile, emaciated (only 2,500 grams/5.5 pounds), cold, and “minimally responsive.” He was given intravenous fluids and placed on a heating pad overnight.
Carnivores native to California, American Badgers are famous for their long foreclaws and excellent ability to dig dens as sites for nesting, sleeping, and protection. Nocturnal, mostly solitary, and elusive, they are seen so seldom that some PWC folks, on hearing of this one in care, said, “Really? We have badgers in SLO County?”
Rehabilitation Technician Sophie Swan was not among them. Although she had never worked with badgers, she knew of the county’s elusive but stable population of them. She had learned about badgers and caught the infectious enthusiasm for them from her partner, Brandon Swanson, the SLO County Unit Biologist for the California Department of Fish and Wildlife, who had developed an appreciation for them and other Mustelids (the family that also includes weasels, otters, and ferrets) while working with the Forest Service, tagging and collaring fishers in the southern Sierras.
When Swan came into the clinic the next day, the badger was much more alert. He had chewed through his IV tube and was eating readily but still had a “very guarded prognosis.” Swan was one of the few who would be caring for him, since he was listed as “staff only” for safety reasons, as is standard procedure for large mammals.
Within three days, while still thin, the badger was already “getting a little scary to handle.” Even cleaning his cage was “terrifying,” Swan says – a word she uses often about this patient, with obvious fondness. Staff set about planning a move from an inside cage to an outdoor enclosure.
It took time to prepare the large enclosure. Initially, two wading pools were brought in and filled with sandy dirt, which the badger immediately started exploring. Soon, though, this design was improved on by adding tires, more dirt, and foliage. Finally, on advice from Sonoma County Wildlife Rescue, the wading pools were replaced with a huge, two-foot-deep fiberglass box filled with fresh dirt that was more moist and stable than in the previous designs. American Badger 24-936 took to it right away.
For several weeks, the badger did what badgers are supposed to do, although as a reminder that every animal is a unique individual, this patient exhibited the un-badger like behavior of climbing the large branches in his enclosure. With minimal human contact in this enclosure at the outer reaches of the property, he gained weight and his body condition improved, thanks to a hearty appetite and daily exercise digging his den and creating a huge mound.
When the badger was ready to be released, our veterinarian declared him “a very good badger” and asked Sophie Swan and Brandon Swanson to find a suitable area. Clearly, a manicured neighborhood would not do. They collaborated with the SLO Land Conservancy to find a perfect spot in Nipomo, on SLOLC property, with a beautiful eucalyptus grove and an expanse of rangeland.
Per CDFW protocols, the two wore masks and heavy gloves used with eagles. Getting the badger into a hard crate, then hoisting him up and secured in the truck proved to be a challenge, for the best possible reason: he had doubled in weight since intake, and Swan was thrilled to find him “menacing,” as a healthy badger should be – far from the lethargic creature who could be contained by a Chewy box. “Lugging this massive animal” a quarter-mile from the trail to the release spot added to the challenge but also to the fun of this adventure, one among many other such “quintessential experiences” the couple has shared.
They reached the spot, rich in lush vegetation and wildlife, and the moment came to open the crate. At first, the badger seemed reluctant to emerge. When he did, he made a mad dash, and they lost sight of him for some time. But then they knew exactly where he was: they saw a small mound of dirt appear and grow bigger and bigger. American Badger 24-936, both “terrifying” and Swan’s “absolute favorite animal” this year, was now free.
Pam Hartmann
