Or does the environment itself create the love and respect for it?  Reason I ask is not the simplest progression of thought though. More like a slew of events. My hens had been bringing out their newborn chicks all week. I had counted three biddies with about twelve of their down-covered offspring scratching about the stable yard. It was most interesting to look at them discover how to find food, water and even play, in what was hardly a risk free area.

Here at the Looking Out Stables we have no shortage of risk – even if you are not a chicken. One major predator for the birds is the ‘matte’ or tegu lizard. The locals call it the ’sallee’, mostly. These large lizards creep through the undergrowth, seeming to keep to a well worn path, taking the odd diversion to steal the eggs from under the sitting mothers. We have lost many peafowl eggs, innumerable chickens, tiny or yet to emerge from their  shells to the voracious appetite of that reptile.

I’ve shot a few from time to time, and that brings me to the point of this discussion. The thing is I know I’m an environmentally conscious person. Maybe more so than the next guy. I mean I live in the bush. I ask my wife to live in the bush with me. Yet here I am cold-bloodedly talking about shooting to death a fellow traveler to Tobago shores because he ate my chicken. While we are at it, I am still keeping a weather eye out for a plumbeous kite which has been stalking my new born yardies.

Not a time goes by that I point the barrel of the air-rifle at some thing and I reflect back to the question of whether I would have been able to shoot predators around the farm with a clear conscience if I were not an ‘educated’ environmentalist. However its all a moot point isn’t it?

The fact that I (as do most others in their space) do try to kill, destroy or remove permanently any life form which threatens personal well being proves time and again that humans are selfish, and that they will destroy the earth whether educated or not. This I know. I proved it once more yesterday as I hustled off to get the gun for that circling raptor.

She needs a hip job now as the years make their impact felt, but the bitch is a great companion all the same. We go for walks daily – not hard terrain killing jaunts, just calm, slightly tiltillating affairs to get the blood flowing. Her name is Brown, and she’s been with us ever since her childhood, since that time I found her in a drain with a broken hip. I think she never totally got over that hip condition ever, although a puppy should mend. One would think. I had hoped she may have, since in her prime she was active in the pack as any of the other dogs.

She some sort of a cross which demonstrates the qualities you’d want from a good German Shepherd, has the alertness of a native mutt, and something else which I’ve never quite gotten my head wrapped around; She has a possessive yet caring personality directed at me. More times than I’d care to admit, I ask if she could be someone I loved, someone who loved for me.

It’s on the walks she comes into her own. She assumes a glued-on position at my left side, a perfect ‘heel’, and that’s one of the things which makes her different. She’s never been on a leash in her life but she heels, stop and stays.These are demands most dog people would kill to have their dogs deliver, but my Brown? She just did it. Smart huh?

She loves a swim, does the old Brown. She’ll stay all day cruising around in the sea, or river, if given a chance. She’s got this thick coat, but it doesn’t trouble her that I’ve seen in the heat. I’ve had other breeds who had similar pelts, who suffered skin irritations, and hated the sun. Not Brown, she took the best of what her parents had to offer I think.

Her time is coming to a close now. I have to place her on the trucks tray before we go to the beach, and I have to lift her down each time. She waits for both. She enjoys the drives, still enjoys the walks and I know I will miss her.