From the desk of Roland Rocchiccioli

As a child, I was something a crack shot with a .22 rifle fitted with a telescopic lens. Now that I am a man, I have put away my childish habits.

MY apologies for paraphrasing Corinthians 13:11. It is how it best suits the narrative of the story. While the quote may be awry, the intent remains intact, unambiguously.

It is difficult to imagine why anyone would choose to take a double-barrelled shotgun, head for the wetlands, scare the nesting ducks and other water birds from the cover and safety of the reeds, blast them out-of-the-sky as they fly-off in total fear – simultaneously leaving the scattered lead shot to contaminate the waterway, and poison the birds. It sounds like a lesson in futility, and abject cruelty.

I grew-up in a household of enthusiastic kangaroo shooters. There were few things my older half-brother like more than shooting animals – including wedge-tailed eagles – which are now a protected species. Like his father before him, guns were his abiding passion – with a particular penchant for .303. It was all part of my childhood in the goldfields, and I did not give it a second thought. I had no qualms about wringing the necks of pigeons and lopping-off the heads of chooks. It was for food. You remember, chook for dinner on Sunday! We also shot and ate wild pigeons, bush turkeys, donkey – for Italian sausages, and pink and grey galahs to be eaten with polenta. The kid and lamb in the backyard ended-up on the spit, always.

Viewing that zeitgeist through the prism of 2022 is pointless. It was 1950-55. They were different times. The practices were acceptable. It was a part of the food chain. It was five-years since the end of World War Two. While money was not scarce, households needed to be thrifty. There were many European migrants. To compensate, everyone had a vegetable garden, fig trees, grape and passion fruit vines, rockmelons, and oblong watermelons!

Our animal perspective has altered, radically. Land clearing and urban development has impacted dramatically – sometimes cataclysmically – on our flora, fauna, and fungi. While some animals are part of the food chain, we need to respect their right to exist. They are sentient creatures. If animals are being raised to be slaughtered there is no reason they cannot be treated compassionately.

Mostly, I am vegetarian. It is matter of personal choice. Put bluntly, I do not want to eat a dead animal. It is a simplistic view, but how I choose to view the world, and other forms of life. Conversely, I do not have an issue with someone being a carnivore.

I do have a problem with animal cruelty, which seems to be on the increase, and the shooting of animals for sport.

Blood sports – riding to hounds, safari trips to South Africa to bag big game, and outdated duck shooting seasons – a poor person’s version of the Glorious 12 – are all equally abhorrent, and deeply disturbing.

The Victorian Premier’s determination to support this inhumane activity is wrong and regrettable; hearteningly, one-third of the current State Labor politicians are opposed.

If shooters are so keen to eat duck they can buy a frozen version from ALDI; or fly to Paris and eat at la Tour d’Argent. It is the best duck restaurant in the world. Booking is essential. It’s posh. No thongs and stubbies – a jacket and tie for men!

‘You can judge a nation by the way it treats it old people and its animals!’

Roland can be heard with Brett Macdonald Mondays at 10.45 on 3BA and contacted via [email protected].