I’m sure you’ve followed the recent furor over Zimbabwe’s Cecil the Lion/Dentist Killer story. Here’s my take.
The headlights illuminated his silhouette.
He was crouched in the edge of the tall grass.
I’d been hunting for him all week.
One of us was going down.
I grabbed my double-barrel 12 gauge.
It felt odd in my hands. I’d not fired a shot in anger since 2012.
But this wasn’t a time for hesitation.
It had to be done.
And I was the one to do it.
Using a flashlight along the barrel of the gun I sighted in on him and took a deep breath.
Cecil was going down.
I didn’t care what PETA or those tree-huggers said:
There wasn’t room enough for both of us.
Cecil the armadillo was gone.
His days of terrorizing my Mom’s flowerbeds were over.
One more Dry Creek armadillo had gone to that great worm bed in the sky.
And his name was Cecil.
A ‘diller in the hand is worth two in the bush.
Gary Larsen’s African Safari Far Side’s are my favorites.
Don’t worry, I wouldn’t shoot a lion.
Even if his name was Cecil.
Unless he was charging.
Or in my Mom’s flowerbeds.
Remember this, lions in Africa are not tame
And there are no fences at Game Parks.
That’s why seeing one in the wild is so thrilling.