Tom’s wife Marta stood in the doorway. She was a woman of average height with thick calves and long red hair. She jumped back as Tom got close enough that she could see what he was holding.
She said, “Tom, you take that badger back where you found it. What’s the matter with you?”
“Marta look, he’s nice and I think he’s hurt. Look at him. He’s no trouble. I’ll just keep him downstairs until he feels better. It’s too cold out tonight for badgers.”
“What the hell do you know about badgers, Tom Winston? You don’t know the first thing about badgers.”