CHRIS Packham, whom I interviewed only the other day, is having to put up with some of the most disgusting behaviour. Opponents of the wildlife campaigner seem to think it is their right to threaten his home and his life, to tell him they are they going to kill him, to tell him his family is not safe.
This is the most revolting thing I have ever heard, I’m also furious with Facebook for not doing anything about some of the trolling that certain people get. I’m not talking about myself – I don’t care, I ignore them as they’re cretinous – but let’s think about it.
The people who are undertaking this mission to try to destroy Chris Packham are those who think he is trying to destroy what they call their fun, their hobby and maybe even their “tradition”. These are the people who think it is perfectly acceptable to go out and kill animals for the fun of it.
There are many such examples, from shooting birds to culling badgers for really no reason to Britain’s best known tradition – foxhunting. In my childhood and early life there was nothing more exciting than seeing the hunt gathering outside their local pub for a stirrup cup and then riding magnificently off into a sunny misty morning with the hounds baying.
But on reflection, when out in the field with the so-called terrier men digging the foxes from their lairs, the hounds running them to ground and literally ripping them limb from limb, it was pretty disgusting.
In past ages we used to enjoy dog fighting, cockfighting, bear baiting and various other forms of entertainment now considered disgusting.
When fox and stag hunting were legally banned, drag hunting, just using a lure for the dogs and hunters to follow, was introduced, but bloodsports fans want the laws repealed and find ways round them.
Tradition doesn’t last forever: we can talk about it, we can look back on it and I don’t want to see any pictures or statues of hunts destroyed. It is all part of our history. But those people who are prepared to carry on the pursuit of killing for fun have to be stopped. And so must their pastimes – if you can call them that.
ENDS
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