Hunting With Dogs Creates Angst Among “Non Native” Locals.

Yesterday’s peace and tranquility of a sunny and warmer Saturday was broken by deer hunters dropping off truckloads of deer hounds up and down the little country road I live on. The hounds run baying through the woods and chase deer out where any of the hunters, sitting in warm trucks strategically parked up and down the road for several miles, can shoot them. With this method of hunting, you don’t even need boots, unless ya just don’t wanna get your sneakers bloody.

p1352832685

Dog hunting, (my term, which might not be the term dog hunters prefer), has an old and longstanding tradition in this neck of the woods, and those hunters will tell us, (the rest of us, as I prefer to call those of us who do not hunt with dogs, and are, in fact, the majority) that if we are opposed to hunting with dogs, we should not have moved to this part of the state. One gentle-fellow even went so far yesterday on a FB post to call out us “non-native locals” as he referred to us, and pretty much said we outta stick a sock in it.

Having only lived here for 30 years myself, I guess I fall into that category of being a non-native local.  But, many native locals also feel the pressure on a Saturday morning when, if you have a farm or outside dogs, it is not safe to leave because you WILL have hunters and baying hounds crossing your property, upsetting your livestock, causing your dogs to go off barking again and again, and even dogs that normally  never leave your yard will suddenly take off after a pack of hounds and might not ever be seen again.

 

If it just happened one time, it might not be so bad….but it’s an all day thing. Up and down the road, hunters are parked all over the place, guns drawn, running back and forth across the road, waiting for the dogs to flush out deer…sometimes it’s hard to get around them. I live on a paved road. This aint no backwoods gravel road with hardly any traffic. There are houses everywhere, most are within site of each other. All are on private property and almost none have given hunters permission to hunt…so, they stick to the roadsides.

I could go on, but the subject makes me mad, and it’s Sunday morning…no hunting is allowed today, so I can stifle my anger and think about something else.

The wind has really revved up overnight and it sounds as if this old house might get picked up and carried to the next county. If it does, I hope it lands on a nice flat spot beside a babbling brook someplace where dog hunting is not allowed.

My former partner, who once lived here with me, was not a hunter. In fact, he didn’t like animals much, dead or alive. They are dirty. He wore gloves to pet the dogs. He put up with my animal habit, but barely. No dogs were allowed in the house, and a cat…ha ha, forget that.

I like animals, and I have never felt the need to hunt them. If I get hungry, I’ll just eat a tomato or something.  I was a vegetarian for many, many years of my life, but once I moved to the country, and began living close to farm critters, I got a new appreciation for the cycle of life and death. I am not anti-hunting. Many of my closest friends are avid hunters. I love going out into the woods myself, but I shoot with a Nikon camera, not a gun.

This morning, I am grateful for the peace of a Sunday morning. I am grateful for a God who loves me just as I am, good friends, wonderful companion animals, my family, and the freedom to live as I choose, to be the mistress of my own kingdom and live a life free from oppression.

Have a great Sunday ya’ll.

 


Comments

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *