I could have shot Cecil the Lion

My dog Ace needs a haircut. He’s starting to look like Cecil the lion. I hope he doesn’t get shot by a Minnesota dentist.

Trophy hunters have always drawn the ire of the antis. They’re easy targets. Consequently, I’ve always chosen to keep my trophy hunting aspirations in the closet.

Some of my hunting companions might say it’s not so much my choice as my ineptitude at bagging any critter resembling a trophy.

But I would beg to differ.

Trophies are in the eye of the beholder, and in my eye I’m a heck of a trophy hunter.

Just take a look. I’ve got antlers, horns and skulls hanging all over the house. Some I picked up, but most came from animals I killed.

I could say the animal parts on display connect me to the outdoors, and bring back memories of the hunt, but as much as anything, I just think they look cool.

Cue the outrage.

“You kill animals simply because they look cool? How awful.”

Oh, there are other reasons. Among them, my appetite.

But don’t let me off the hook because I’m more meat hunter than seeker of trophies. That’s simply due to economics, and again, ineptitude. If I was a wealthy dentist I might be traveling the world, too, hunting dangerous big game.

I could have shot Cecil.

PETA would be calling for my head, Zimbabwe, seeking my extradition, and Jack Hanna calling for jail time.

No one ever gets this upset when some yahoo from Texas shoots a bull elk here without a tag, or when a couple of bird hunters from Florida get caught with 50 rooster pheasants in their cooler.

All lives matter, but apparently some lives matter more than others.

I grew up reading Hemingway. I dreamed of hunting those “Green Hills of Africa.” But that train has left the station. I’m quite content now to stay home and hunt in Montana.

Like most hunters I know, I try to follow the law, make quick kills, and take only those animals for which I hold a license.

On rare occasions, I actually take a trophy.

I’m not so different from Dr. Walter Palmer except I’ve never mistaken a beloved neighborhood pet for a wild, free-roaming lion.

Although that’s not much of a problem up here, I can understand how it might happen.

Just look at Ace.

Parker Heinlein is at [email protected]