He certainly claims to. As you can tell by his leathery, tanned integument he has spent many a day scouring the fields of the parish cataloging, observing, digging up and eating the various mycological delights he finds (although often he's not seen for a day or two after some of his trips, and when he finally emerges his reason for absence if cited as "an excess of one the four humours" or "an case of aggressive internal miasmatic aggregation" which is cured with the help of sennapods and plenty of fresh air (leaving the windows open).

Incidentally, there is a rumour originating amongst the regulars of The Fidgeting Badger that Mr.Burke-Bothwell was actually almost accosted by Farmer Evans's top ratter Snorkel, but Mr.Burke-Bothwell maintains the hairy quadruped he observed was growling, not purring and also it can't have been feline as cats bring on a distemper in him and he didn't have so much as a tickle up his olfactory passageways for the rest of the evening.