Nice Beaver!

If you missed it, there was a beaver attack.  I have to admit, I’m not that surprised.  I saw one episode of something called Swamp Loggers on Discovery Channel.  Not ten minutes in, they were dismantling a beaver dam so they could do whatever logging things they do.  BeaverPangs would have been hot under the collar.  Not a minute after you get done damming up some waterway a bunch of yokels come rippin’ it all up.

I saw this first over at Cryptozoology Online on Aug 6 (a great source for funny and odd animal news – like this one about an eel getting up someone’s bum).  I glanced at the news item, but not closely.  Not until seeing it on Cryptomundo did this line jump out at me:

“This was one of the biggest beavers I’ve ever seen.”

I can’t help myself.

However, I did note the 3-stone beaver weight (about 42 pounds) mentioned in the linked article.  Tracking down an Atlanta Journal Constitution article (the incident occurred in southern Georgia) we get a reported size of 35-40 pounds.  Pretty close.  Not bad, journalist people!

The consensus from reviewing various sources (here’s one! and another! and the all-knowing Wikipedia) is that the North American Beaver’s adult weight is 35-65 pounds, with reported outliers at up to 100 pounds.

I suppose 40 pounds is a big beaver, but let’s not go thinking it was the biggest beaver ever.  How many freakin’ beavers has Mr. McTindal seen up close?  Hell, maybe he just doesn’t estimate weight very well.  Probably been telling Mrs. McTindal for years that she hefts out at about 107 pounds.  No wonder the missus thinks the sizes on those pant suits are BS.

And remember kids, don’t piss off the beaver.

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About I.M. Pangs

digital verbal smog creator improbablefrontiers.com
This entry was posted in Universal Absurdity and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Nice Beaver!

  1. autumnforest says:

    No, an angry beaver is not a pleasant thing. Pangs, you made my day. Thanks for the smile and I don’t feel so self conscious about my beaver anymore. (my pet beaver, of course. What were you thinking, you bad boy?)

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