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Last Of The Tasmanian Devils?
I've hunted deer a few times in life as well, but as I grew older, sitting in a blind above a sendero waiting for a deer to show up and eat the corn below didn't quite seem sporting. My father and I traveled to a lot of wild places in the US when I was younger, too. One of the joys was seeing the local wildlife. (At the time it was boring, but now I am grateful.) Somewhere along the line I developed a sense of conservation and appreciation for wildlife in its native setting. So I don't hunt now. If I had to, I could, but it seems pointless. I prefer to watch nature in all its glory. And that's what makes stories like this all the more heartbreaking. I have seen a badger, ferocious but cute critters that they are. And I saw a mongoose in India. But I doubt I'll ever see a Tasmanian Devil in the wild. Sometimes I think that if more people grew up hunting they might well appreciate nature's bounty even more. I know this may sound odd, but there is a strange communion between the hunted and the hunter at the time of death. I don't know why this is, but I was always grateful for the animal's sacrifice and the food it provided. It seems that appreciation is lost on we moderns. More is the pity. Sean Paul Kelley November 16, 2009 - 12:09pm
( categories: Endangered Species )
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