Three miles. Three deaths. I suppose that many of the local dairy farmers would applaud the nighttime carnage. I don't know enough about TB to assess if the fears of the agricultural community are based on substance. What I do know is that within three miles of the homely acres I came upon three dead badgers. At the first blood stained locus two corpses were strewn across the roadway causing me to slalom between them. A mile down the road a third dead badger lay haunched over a cats eye.
I suppose these animals were dazzled by car headlights and froze as their metal predators bore down on them. I would hope that they were not deliberately run over. Maybe a local amateur taxidermist will test his skills on one of the brocks or perhaps there is someone out there who is an agent of a shaving brush manufacturer who haunts the lanes and bye ways in search of raw material.