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November 12, 2004
Hunting
I've come to terms with deer hunting. Living in a rural working-class village, I've come to understand that all the local freezers are filled with deer by December, and that's the main protein source for the year to come. I'm okay with that. Not happy, but okay.
Fox hunting is quite another matter, and to my astonishment, I drove past a fox hunt on my way to work yesterday. By the time I came upon these fine sporting folk, I was already feeling really sick, and I'd like to think that if I'd been in a normal frame of mind, I'd have parked my car and picked a fight. As it was, I just shouted at them as I drove by. It was maybe a dozen people on horseback, decked out in fine array, with a few serfs on foot loading the hounds into a van, presumably at the end of the hunt. It was on Ballina Road in Cazenovia. Now, everybody in these parts recognizes Cazenovia as the capital of central New York social pretension, but fox hunting in Cazenovia takes that characteristic to new, supremely nauseating heights. The UK is busy outlawing foxhunting, albeit against the protests of those who wish to display their wealth and hard hearts in this particular manner. But here in New York, the Limestone Creek Foxhunt Club seems to be thriving unopposed. So far.
Posted by senioritis at November 12, 2004 04:53 PM