I have just saw this advertisment in a spanish hunting magazine.

The hunt is offered in RSA and offers a lion in 4 HUNTING DAYS ( ) for 14,950 euros ....

The RSA company name is Steyr Caracal Safaris..



L

Day one:
You ride around the farm so you know where not to shoot, like into a barn, a water pump, the neighbor's dog kennel or hit a car on the highway. Actual time involved is 15 minutes. You drink whiskey the rest of the day and into the night.

Day two:
You rest and eat the Alka-Seltzer you brought with you.

Day three:
You awaken to the sound of a truck arriving in the dark and sounds of metal banging (and strangely, the sound of a blow drier... and there are no women in camp?) You think you might have heard your PH scream in pain, but maybe it was a hyena or the neighbor's Jack Russel. You become excited for the hunt since the PH has said that he heard lions roar last night at supper, but you were drunk and only heard the neighbor's t.v. with Larry King Live waifing across the 100 yards from next door... and kids down the street playing in their swimming pool... so you hurry to breakfast. You notice that the PH has a bruised hand and is cussing about a damn "tracker" that couldn't wait to slam the a gate or something like that, but he hushes everyone upon your arrival. You eat four fried eggs, toast, soggy potatoes and some kind of juice that taste like a mixture of orange, mango and piss. You gave up on the crappy instant coffee the first day. Time to go says the PH. You walk towards the Land Rover, but the PH says we can walk. You follow him north for 2 minutes, then west for 2 minutes, then south for 2 minutes, then east for a minute when he suddenly stops and whispers, "Damn, what good luck. I see a lion asleep right ahead." You peer in the morning light and sure enough, there is a wonderful lion just 40 yards ahead (just behind the barn by the truck) and you get on the sticks with your engraved .416 Blaser. With the PH's thumbs up and comment that he's a bruiser, you fire putting one right in the shoulder (well, in the shoulder if he was licking his rectum, but what the hell?) The lion jumps high in the air, biting his stomach. You catch a glimse of a hypodermic needle that hangs from his ham as he runs directly away. A loop of gut catches on a discarded door from a 1962 Morris Minor and a string of intestines unravel for 25 feet until they pop like an over-extended rubber band. You remember your instructions from the first day and hold your fire so that you don't hit the barn and after a noble flight of 70 yards or so, the already field-dressed king of the jungle slides to a stop between the hot tub and the laundry line... and he is yours! The kids from next door cheer you as they man the fence rodeo-style in anticipation of the Dangerous Game hunt and the brave hunter. You are glad you used your A-Square Lion-Loads and had a really good European scope that cost half as much as a single-wide trailer. It is only 7:00 a.m. so you drink the rest of the day, unfortunately making a pass at the neighbor's 14 year-old daughter who is a hottie in her little tight shorts... and her dad beats you senseless.

Day 4
You rest and lick your wounds, finish off the Alka-Seltzers and make a plan for a rhino hunt for next year. It's a 20 minute drive in heavy traffic to the Johannesburg airport and the long flight back to the states awaits, so early to bed and after a reverent time writing in your diary about your exciting brush with death, you sleep and dream of dreams come true.

I'll buy but they better let me get my picture taken beside the cat before I shoot it. Do they hand out dresses with every sale?

We darted and moved a 4-year old male lion from an enclosure to a larger fenced area this year, while we were in Namibia. It took 4 of us to roll it onto a tarp and put it in the back of a pickup. This was to introduce several orphaned cubs to a female he was living with, in hopes she would raise them. These are to roam free, for photo opportunities only. Up close to one of these big guys, there is a primal excitement and fear thru your whole body, and it is an incredible beast. Just holding it's paw and looking at the musculature was something else.

I have to think that hunting one honorably would be the ultimate trip of a lifetime. I envy all of you who have had that experience. To unfairly take advantage of a drugged pet in the before mentioned scenario would/should shame to shooter (not hunter) into keeping his mouth shut about it.