Shoot

Today I was invited to attend a pheasant shoot with some friends. I am from a Liverpool suburb and my mother is vegan, so I have never done anything like this before. If my Toxteth Nan was alive she would have been horrified that I was getting ideas above my station and rubbing shoulders with posh people. However, I think that if I am happy to eat meat then I should be happy to see it killed, and game birds probably have a nicer life than factory farmed chickens. Must start shifting my meat consumption to game in the new year.

Here are the guns in the distance, with a close up of the picker-upper's dog, whose job it is to go and get the injured birds and give them a swift end if they are not killed outright. This happened a lot but the shooting party's commitment to limiting suffering of the birds was clear.

I was made to feel very welcome and everybody was friendly but there was something about my lack of accent and Barber jacket that made me feel a little out of place.