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Painting by Ena Lund


Me and the hares again. (See the post Two hares. And more)

Roxy the Labrador killed a young one yesterday morning. By some strange coincidence at almost the exact moment men from the informal settlement in the area hunted with their dogs in the long grass bordering our farm. I heard the excitement when the dogs found the hare, saw the chase in the distance, how it was eventually killed by a blow of a stick. I shouted at them, waved my arms. They merely moved further away.

People may call me weak, but it all disturbs me deeply. I feel sick to my stomach.

Tonight I found Walter de la Mare’s poem, the one I was remembering in fragments during the day.

Hi!

Hi! Handsome hunting man, 
Fire your little gun, 
Bang! Now the animal
Is dead and dumb and done.
Never more to peep again, creep again, leap again,
Eat or sleep or drink again, oh, what fun!

Yes....


George



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