Game

A perch some 20 feet up a backyard tree offers a peek into every manner of activity in the neighborhood. One guy in a uniform sets down his running leaf-blower, backs into a bush, squats and relieves himself. Another guy wearing pastel and khaki rides tight circles on his mower; his facial contortions suggest he’s singing his ass off. A woman washes dishes at her kitchen sink. A man grills on his deck and searches for me in the treeline. This is urban hunting. And it sucks. All the way around. But here’s the truth: it’s necessary – for hunters, for homeowners, for the community and our economy. New York City infamously invested $6 million in taxpayer funds to give bucks vasectomies As a hunter, the suck starts when you pull into a stranger’s driveway.

Laikipia He was turned out in a crisp bush ranger’s uniform and handled his assault rifle like a man hardened in the field for years to take on bandits and elephant poachers. ‘Ah Mario, what a pleasure it is to meet you again after all this time,’ I said. His severe military face collapsed into a beaming smile as he snapped to attention and slope-armed his weapon. He then relaxed and we chatted for a while on the roadside in our farming district, where I’ve been around so long now that I frequently encounter people whom I’ve known all their lives. Some, like Mario, even have a few wrinkles, greying hair, a couple of wives and several children. The farm has always been a refuge, remote from towns and the life outside.

Since telling the shoot we won’t let them use the land we rent, we have been beset by a series of unfortunate events. It began more than a year ago now, when we first dug in our heels and said there were to be no standing guns in the fields where we keep our horses. The lady who owns the land backed us. They didn’t help themselves by demanding to use it for free. The idea was, we pay the rent and move our horses somewhere else during the shooting season so they can shoot pheasants in it. I don’t think so. They argued that they had established a recent history of using the land, albeit unbeknown to the owner. When we took it over, we found a hole in her back fence line and a makeshift stile on to her land across a ditch from a neighbouring field.