For Cecil

"The wild life of today is not ours to do with as we please. The original stock was given to us in trust for the benefit both of the present and the future. We must render an accounting of this trust to those who come after us."    
                                                                                ---Theodore Roosevelt

First, let me be clear. I do not oppose lawful hunting of game animals within reason and for consumption. I currently have a freezer full of deer meat, provided by a family friend who is an avid hunter. While there are always exceptions, I believe hunters as a whole to be the best examples of conservationists, and often have the keenest appreciation for the natural world and our place in it.

But the killing of Cecil the lion was not about hunting for meat or survival. It was about something else. It was about ego, and a cowardly one at that.

I understand, in theory at least, the symbolism of the hunt, the visceral charm of the kill. Hemingway is one of my favorite authors. Green Hills of Africa is one of my favorite books. Through his descriptions of big game hunting, the very foundation of a man's soul is laid bare with descriptions of a path cut through the menace of the natural world. It is gripping, and compelling in its raw beauty.

But I protest.

We do not live in a Hemingway novel. And Cecil lived on protected lands. He was lured to his death, then killed by a man illegally. And he's not alone. Tens of lions are killed illegally every year. To what end? Trophies.

So, I protest further.

Big cats offer a beauty to this world unlike any other, and killing them for any reason beyond threat to life or property seems counter-intuitive to me. The allure of such an animal resides in its natural beauty and wildness. Like a vapor in the wind, that essence will dissipate once it's needlessly stuffed and mounted for display. It is a false victory, and one that comes at great cost to the natural world.

One of the characters in my novel, Among the Grackle, is a photographer by profession who uses his familiarity with the African landscapes as a way to set upon poachers intent on killing elephants, rhinoceros, and lion. As a protector against those who would needlessly dispatch these animals, his passions lead him to commit acts that are morally questionable.

And while I don't condone his methods, my heart is with him in his mission because they do need our protection. They are dying. Their numbers are rapidly diminishing before the hubris of mankind.

For Cecil, it is too late. But his death stands as potent reminder there is much to be done, and too few to do it.

Before it's too late, please support: www.iapf.org