It was my youngest who spotted the badger latrine. “Yuck! What is that?” she exclaimed. We were picking the last of the plums in a friend’s orchard when my daughter noticed a strange hole in the ground, full with plum stones and dark, purplish poo.

“A badger toilet,” I answered succinctly, which was met with a strong desire to see the badgers, as well as lots of questions about such things as whether they wipe their bums.

And so a night-time expedition was arranged – not to the orchard, where the lure of the plums had all but ended, but to a badger sett in the nearby woods, where, in ...


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