Remembering Cecil
Around this time in 2015, Dr. Walter Palmer, DDS, of Bloomington MN, killed Cecil the Lion with the intention of adding Cecil’s magnificent head to his extensive collection of dead wild animal heads.
Those not familiar with Dr. Palmer and his exploits can simply Google “Cecil the Lion.” Or, they can contact Dr. Palmer directly at his dental practice at 10851 Rhode Island Ave. S, Minneapolis, MN 55438, phone (952.884.5361. NOTE: Those wishing to speak to Dr. Palmer in person should be aware that his home and clinic likely have extensive security systems, and there may be a long line of people eager to have a word with him.
Regrettably, a video of Cecil’s meeting with Dr. Palmer was not available at press time, but the photo below shows what Cecil looked like before Dr. Palmer wounded him with a crossbow, tracked him down, shot him to death with a rifle, then had him skinned and beheaded.
Killing millions of wild creatures worldwide for fun is a highly profitable industry, complete with its own commissions, dazzling weaponry, lobbyists (Safari Club International, the NRA), fashionable outfits, private clubs, magazines and shoulder patches, not to mention special seasons, licenses, tags, stamps and permits issued by various national, state and local governments. That’s why what Dr. Palmer did to Cecil is considered a sport and not a felony.
Throughout the U.S. — and right here in Wine Country — hunting is celebrated by many as a Manly American Tradition. Local practitioners include members of prominent and not-so-prominent families and a sitting U. S. Congressman. Two sons of the current occupant of the White House (He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named) are infamous for their expeditions to Africa to clear savannah and forest of elephants and other exotic species. Scrupulously law-abiding all, hunters especially like laws that shield them from prosecution for animal cruelty and which protect, preserve and promote hunting for the enjoyment of future generations.
Speaking of which, while there is no minimum IQ required to obtain a hunting license, youngsters must be at least 12 years old to legally harvest (hunters don’t like to use the word ‘kill’) a deer in California. They must also take part in a hunting safety course in which the wildlife — who might benefit most from it — are not allowed to enroll. But parents fretting about the impact that the act of killing innocent creatures might have on their child’s development or safety can rest secure in the knowledge that while on hunting trips with Dad, little Tommy cannot be legally traumatized by wine, cigarettes or beer until he turns 21.
Otherwise, any youngster is free to pick up the ol’ shotgun or assault rifle and learn the Hallowed American Tradition of blowing wildlife to smithereens for the fun of it. The skills they acquire will unquestionably come in handy should Whole Foods and Safeway ever run out of the millions of tons of factory-farmed animal carcasses hanging in their meat lockers.
Perhaps the best news as that American kids need not be the sons or daughters of a billionaire president in order to become Real Sportsman. With enough ammunition, practice and a little luck, every child – regardless of race, creed, color or bathroom preference – can grow up to be just like Dr. Palmer.
R.I.P. Cecil. You, too, Bambi. And Thumper, Smokey, Pooh, Harambe . . .
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Thank you for speaking out on this subject . . . I understand that after Mr. Palmer killed Cecil, the photos and story blew up on social media leading to the rapid demise of Mr. Palmer’s dental practice . . .