Again another delayed article, but a reminder of the atrocity of grouse shooting season is something which can be discussed and fought against any time. Firstly apologies for the awful formatting. Not my fault, I have tried for some considerable time to sort it out and it seems that this all too common wordpress glitch will not resolve.
When I was twelve, I went hunting with my father and we shot a bird. He was laying there and something struck me. Why do we call this fun to kill this creature [who] was as happy as I was when I woke up this morning.
At the beginning of August my husband and I were in the Yorkshire Dales which is very beautiful at this time of year as the hills are covered with purple heather. All very tranquil except for the sound of gunfire.
The problem is that about…