Peter Hitchens writes:
Anyone would think that stags, if not shot by hunters, look forward to a contented old age being wheeled about in bath chairs in Eastbourne. The sentimental fuss about the alleged shooting of the ‘Emperor of Exmoor’ is Britain at its daftest.
This beast may look very nice. But if he hasn’t been shot, he’ll die horribly from a broken leg, or contract TB. And in the meantime he is getting up to things with his younger female relatives that have no place in a family paper. I’m hoping for a nice venison stew for supper.
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