Conservation is all about killing things

The liberal elites think hunting is evil…because people like me kill things and eat them.

Despite these attitudes, they also agree with tonnes of 1080 being dumped into our forests, lakes and streams…in order to kill things. At least I am eating my kill.

The bottom line though is every=thing I shoot, kill, and eat is introduced and a pest…someone has to do it.

We all need to do our part.

New Yorker has an article about New Zealand and our desire to rid ourselves of these introduced pests.

In the days—perhaps weeks—it had spent in the trap, the stoat had lost most of its fur, so it looked as if it had been flayed. Its exposed skin was the deep, dull purple of a bruise, and it was coated in an oily sheen, like a sausage. Stoat traps are often baited with eggs, and this one contained an empty shell. Kevin Adshead, who had set the trap, poked at the stoat with a screwdriver. It writhed and squirmed, as if attempting to rise from the dead. Then it disgorged a column of maggots.

“Look at those teeth,” Adshead said, pointing with his screwdriver at the decomposing snout.

Adshead, who is sixty-four, lives about an hour north of Auckland. He and his wife, Gill, own a thirty-five-hundred-acre farm, where for many years they raised cows and sheep. About a decade ago, they decided they’d had enough of farming and left to do volunteer work in the Solomon Islands. When they returned, they began to look at the place differently. They noticed that many of the trees on the property, which should have been producing cascades of red flowers around Christmastime, instead were stripped bare. That was the work of brushtail possums. To save the trees, the Adsheads decided to eliminate the possums, a process that involved dosing them with cyanide. 

One thing led to another, and soon the Adsheads were also going after rats. With them, the preferred poison is an anticoagulant that causes internal hemorrhaging. Next came the stoats, or, as Americans would say, short-tailed weasels. To dispatch these, the Adsheads lined their farm with powerful traps, known as DOC 200s, which feature spring-controlled kill bars. DOC 200s are also helpful against ferrets, but the opening is too small for cats, so the Adsheads bought cat traps, which look like rural mailboxes, except that inside, where the letters would go, there’s a steel brace that delivers an uppercut to the jaw.

The Adsheads put out about four hundred traps in all, and they check them on a regular rotation. When I visited, on a bright blue day toward the end of the Southern Hemisphere winter, they offered to show me how it was done. They packed a knapsack of supplies, including some eggs and kitty treats, and we set off.

As we tromped along, Kevin explained his trapping philosophy. Some people are fastidious about cleaning their traps of bits of rotted stoat. “But I’m not,” he said. “I like the smell in there; it attracts things.” Often, he experiments with new techniques; recently he’d learned about a kind of possum bait made from flour, molasses, and cinnamon, and Gill had whipped up a batch, which was now in the knapsack. For cats, he’d found that the best bait was Wiener schnitzel.

“I slice it thin and I tie it over the trigger,” he told me. “And what happens with that is it starts to dry out and they still go for it.”

I’d come to watch the Adsheads poke at decaying stoats because they are nature lovers. So are most New Zealanders. Indeed, on a per-capita basis, New Zealand may be the most nature-loving nation on the planet. With a population of just four and a half million, the country has some four thousand conservation groups. But theirs is, to borrow E. O. Wilson’s term, a bloody, bloody biophilia. The sort of amateur naturalist who in Oregon or Oklahoma might track butterflies or band birds will, in Otorohanga, poison possums and crush the heads of hedgehogs. As the coördinator of one volunteer group put it to me, “We always say that, for us, conservation is all about killing things.

I had this discussion with Russel Norman once outside TV3…he didn’t listen.

I told him it was people like me he needed to attract, those of us who kill feral animals to keep New Zealand free of pests. People who want clean rivers, lakes, harbours and seas…except they were by-passing us with their crazy socialist dogma.

We all need to do our bit, so if anyone has feral pests, including cats that they want killed I am happy to do so for them. Possums, goats, bunnies, hares, cats…you name it I’ll kill it.

 

– New Yorker


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As much at home writing editorials as being the subject of them, Cam has won awards, including the Canon Media Award for his work on the Len Brown/Bevan Chuang story. When he’s not creating the news, he tends to be in it, with protagonists using the courts, media and social media to deliver financial as well as death threats.

They say that news is something that someone, somewhere, wants kept quiet. Cam Slater doesn’t do quiet and, as a result, he is a polarising, controversial but highly effective journalist who takes no prisoners.

He is fearless in his pursuit of a story.

Love him or loathe him, you can’t ignore him.

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