All of the weasels at the British Wildlife Centre. Have I mentioned before how much I love how many different kinds of weasels there are here?
Least weasel. The tiniest of the weasels. Here we see how an entire weasel can hide behind a blade of grass.
Stoat.
Pine marten. If the otters had forgotten to bribe the lighting director, the pine martens had insulted his mother and peed in his breakfast cereal. They are much prettier in good light.
Mink.
In the special nearly-a-weasel category, the badger.
And finally, the polecats. There was a bunch of young polecats with their mother in one of the outdoor pens. The young polecats were having fun. Mother, maybe not so much.
“Foxes got an opera; bats got an opera; why haven’t we got an opera for weasels?”
“Because when you are doing what you call ‘singing’, everybody else thinks you’re trying to bite each others’ heads off.”
“But we are! That’s what makes it fun!”
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