Skip to main content

Honey Badger

 

Our game driver spotted this bowlegged guy trotting down the road. He was coming straight for us, so with heart-thumping anticipation, it looked like he would walk right past us. But, dang, he eventually stopped, looked our way, sniffed the air, then turned on a dime and made a beeline for the bush where a couple of young lions were napping. The lions looked up and let him pass without so much as a muffled roar. 


This badass is a Honey Badger, an animal with a reputation so fierce even lions avoid them because these little warriors go straight for the testicles. Faces and eyes are also fair game, their long claws and sharp teeth can shred skin to the bone. During my seven years in South Africa, this was only my second encounter with a Honey Badger; the first had only happened days before in The Kruger.


My friend and I were sitting around a campfire one evening. Wine flowed, and the flames of the fire created a warm, safe feeling. Well, safe(ish) because the baboons that surrounded us were determined to steal our food. We were chatting about who knows what when a Honey Badger crossed in front of our shoeless feet like he owned the place. We froze, afraid to move lest our faces fall victim to his notorious bad attitude.  


But, he didn’t seem to give a hoot about us, headed straight for the garbage, lifted up the cover, took a sniff, sat up on the edge, and looked at us as if to say, “What the heck, where’s the leftovers.”  Then we heard something behind us, and holy cow, another Honey Badger plodded on by, looked at his buddy, who, I swear, shook his head in disgust before they scampered off to the next campsite.


Honey Badgers are misunderstood. They are wicked smart, can make tools, can slither out of their skin to escape a predator, and can hypnotize honeybees with their stinky anal spray and steal the honey with nary a sting. And humans are absolutely meaningless to them in their quest for survival.


The Honey Badger is definitely an animal worthy of respect! 


#honeybadger #personalessay #lastmonthsinsouthafrica #ilovethebush



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Tragedy of Human Despair

  The Tragedy of Human Despair in South Africa I came across this scene while running errands. The person, a man, I think, sat on the dirty, tar road at a robot, straddling the center and right turn lanes on a busy street. The light had turned red, so I was forced to face the human tragedy of poverty, hunger, and hopelessness.  It’s not like I hadn’t seen people on the streets begging for food, clothes, jobs, or anything to sustain them for another day, but this was different.  He rested in a fetal position, head bowed and covered by a white t-shirt juxtaposed against black clothing. And what about the books? I couldn’t see their titles; maybe one was a bible.   He was as still as a statue and as quiet as the dark before the dawn. He did not flinch or moan, nor did he have pleading hands reaching out for a tidbit of salvation.  The human was simply there, a tableau worthy of a production by the Ontological-Hysterical theatre company in New York City’s lower...

A Baboon Family

  A Baboon Family This baboon family makes me happy. The setting is peaceful, all four calmly sitting on a rock, at rest. Except for the baby looking directly at our game vehicle with curiosity, the other three's eyes gazing elsewhere.  Despite their sharp as daggers canine teeth, nut-crushing jaws, naughty opportunistic foraging of camper's food, and a hierarchy of dominating male bullies, baboons can be quiet and peaceful, going about their daily business in a well-defined social order.  These old-world monkeys thrive in friend and family units; females form strong bonds to raise and protect the kids, forage for food, and stay loyal to the troop for their entire lives. Like human families, they comfort each other, play, and squabble but ultimately come together for the good of the community and protection from predators - for the most part. Yes, there's a bit of infanticide by the males, beating females for the heck of it, violently tossing little ones to the side when ...

Giraffes

  A couple of things are going on in this photo.  First, the ubiquitous bush butt shot. The rear-angle view of animals is so common that a friend of mine has a series of animal bottoms framed and hung on her bathroom wall.  I have about a million bottom shots languishing on a flash drive, I hate to get rid of them, but I’m not sure what I should do with the backside collection. Secondly, have a look at this trio of male giraffes. Elder, younger, and the one in the middle.  In this photo, the animals seem like pals. The three were playing rather than foraging on the treetops for food, so the sighting was special. Playing around to male giraffes looks like a neck-swinging dance and is weirdly elegant. The behavior is called “necking,” and it can cause damage if the play turns aggressive. It’s a dominance thing, a way to sort out who’s the boss of the females in the tower (or journey if they are moving).  As it turns out, male giraffes, like human males, have testo...