From Jim Robertson,
Exposing
the Big Game /
Animals in the Wild
December 2013
Normally, I would have called an ambulance for a wounded friend and a sheriff to put away the psychopathic neighbor. But medics and sheriff’s departments in this country don’t cotton to my friend’s kind.
Text and Wildlife Photography ©Jim Robertson, 2013. All Rights Reserved -
Animals in the Wild
Walking the road along my property I discovered that my friend had been shot. Following the blood trail back to its origin, it was clear he was shot by my neighbor. The tracks and drops of blood—bright red against the stark white snow—led onto my land where at least he could die in peace.
I wish I could have warned him to always steer clear of that neighbor, whose thirst for blood is a well-known trademark among some of the other locals. Normally, I would have called an ambulance for a wounded friend and a sheriff to put away the psychopathic neighbor. But medics and sheriff’s departments in this country don’t cotton to my friend’s kind.
The thing is, he’s an elk; and according to the law (enacted by humans
exclusively for humans), shooting a non-human—especially a “game” animal—is
considered “harvesting” or “sport,” rather than what it undeniably is:
murder.
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