In neighboring Wisconsin, during the recent opening of deer-killing season several federally protected wolves were shot and killed. Nothing unusual--it happens every year. I doubt if any of the killers had an Aldo Leopold moment of enlightenment after doing it either.
"We reached the old wolf in time to watch a fierce green fire dying in her eyes. I realized then, and have known ever since, that there was something new to me in those eyes--something known only to her and the mountain. I was young then, and full of trigger-itch; I thought that because fewer wolves meant more deer, that no wolves would mean hunters' paradise. But after seeing the green fire die, I sensed that neither the wolf nor the mountain agreed with such a view."Back when I did a biweekly column for a local paper, I wrote one on hunting in town. It had a line to the effect that if I happened on a hunter about to shoot an animal, I would be willing to shoot the hunter if that was the only way to save the animal, and I'd consider it self-defense. The editor refused to include that sentence. Bring me the people who killed these wolves who should have been running and howling under tonight's full moon. This time I'll call it justice.