(This one is for my grandchildren.)While in Dallas for my sister's memorial last month, my son Matthew wanted us all to go to dinner with his best friend from junior high school and his family. We loaded up in two cars and met them at a restaurant Matt had heard had excellent food. Upon entering the restaurant's foyer, we came face-to-belly button with a stuffed grizzly like the one above. It was HUGE - at least 8 feet tall. I was first in line and as I stumbled past it and took a step up into the restaurant, I saw that the walls were covered in stuffed animal trophies of all kinds. I turned to look behind me and noticed my grandson Tanner was visibly upset, and trying to keep from looking at the walls. His mom Carajean was trying to console him. It took a moment for it to register with me that he was upset about all the animals people had killed. This is my tender-hearted little vegan, who probably has never been exposed to any kind of killing or violence in his life. If he has, it might have been on a video game or TV show -- make-believe. The dinner was ruined for some of us, and Tanner didn't eat a bite. As we left, I held on to him and told him to do nothing but look at the floor where he put his feet until we were outside. Later, I wished I had had the presence of mind to try to explain why people put "trophies" up. Then I realized that I didn't have a good explanation. Why do people continue to hunt animals and display them? This Grandmama came up with the following story by piecing together what little I know about evolution and the history of mankind.
We all know of a time when man was forced to kill or be killed by the predators roaming the earth. Not only for the protection of his family and tribe, but for the food provided by the animals when there was no edible vegetation available. The pelts, of course, were also beneficial as clothing and bedding. Men were the hunters, protectors, providers. Women were the gatherers, nurturers, and child-bearers. These traits of males and females were ingrained in humans and remain so until the present time. Men were aggressive -- even war-like, by necessity. Now, though, we all agree that killing animals in the wild is not a necessity. So why do people do it?
I suppose the "killer instinct", or aggression, is still so ingrained in men that it must be released in some fashion. Some men accomplish this by playing contact sports. Others go to war to feel justified in killing. And then others hunt wild animals. I hear all kinds of reasons for hunting. Some say that the deer population would get so out of hand that many deer would starve if hunters didn't keep them killed off. Others tell me that the deer leases that so many ranchers now have allow them enough income to stay in the business of ranching when times are tough. Most of them have agreed with me that the ones who kill only for the "prize"... the huge rack from the deer... the stuffed head for their fireplace... those are the ones to be frowned on. Many mutilated deer were left by the side of the road in West Texas. Shot, their antlers cut off, then the body left to decompose. Now that's sad.
Men are notoriously competitive, and therefore, I believe that's why they want to hang their trophies from their kills for all to view. "Mine is bigger (or better or rarer or scarier) than yours!" Some people still stuff and mount the fish they catch. I was surprised when my son Matthew told me he had joined a bass fishing club in Austin a few years back. As a scuba diver, he learned to love the underwater creatures. When I expressed my surprise, he told me his fishing club was known as a CPR club. Catch, Photograph, and Release! Ahhh. Now that makes sense. If only we could somehow prove that the hooks don't hurt the fish when they are caught!
Come on, all you hunters and nonhunters! Help me out here. Give me more information to pass on to my grandchildren who don't believe in killing animals. Pros or cons.
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Speaking of bears... When I was growing up, I was in awe of my maternal grandfather's second wife, Neva. She was a perfect match for my granddad.. a tough, brave lady. In his younger years, Granddad broke horses for the forest rangers in northern California, and was gone frequently. During one of his absences, the story goes, Neva killed a bear in their back yard, skinned it, 
and had bear steaks in the freezer when he returned! This story stuck with me, and when I was in my 40s, I wrote to Neva and asked her about it. I had always envisioned her protecting her little children against a "big monster" of a bear! I told her she was a heroine in my eyes all those years. She wrote back in typical Neva fashion, "Oh, Marilyn, it was just a little bear!!" 
Granddad was 78 when these pictures were taken. She was the love of his life! It was a sure thing that he knew his family was safe with her tending the home fires.May the grizzly in your life be "just a little bear"!
Peace,
Marilyn
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