Holidaze and the New Year

The Paleohund pack wishes you happy holidays and a happy new year!

I will be spending time with family followed by a 6 day new year celebration down in southern Virginia with some quality friends. In that time I plan on updating and finalizing the various pages on the site. I also intend on ironing out my goals and plans for the website in 2011. 2010, even with the knee injury, has been awesome. Anyway, have fun, be safe.

Snowy Hike

Saturday after doing CrossFit with my older brother and eating a power breakfast, we met up with one of our younger brothers and went for a hike. My older brother lives in a gorgeous area with a trail not far from his house which leads to Gambrill State Park in the Catoctin Mountain Range. As if the CrossFit workout was not tough enough, my dogs and I ended up hiking over 4 hours.

My brothers and two of their dogs

Cyprus and Dakota took the lead

Monkey cooling down in a creek

With that last photo, my older brother turned back with his two dogs. The trail from there started to increase in elevation as we approached the Gambrill trails. We could see a few foot and paw prints and at least one mountain bike tire track along the trail. Cyprus generally stuck with us, but often sprinted off-trail, following one scent after another. Shaman did well in the Palisades Pack, and with it being his first time wearing it I did not load it. Periodically I would come across rocks that seemed even in size and weight, so I would place them in each side of his pack. And other than periodically nearly taking out our knees as he ran by, he showed no signs of dislike of this burden. I decided to wear my KSO Treks with Injinji Socks and although my feet were cold, I did my best to keep them dry and that made a world of difference.

Shaman Sporting the Palisades Pack

Cold Toes

Shaman hanging by me

On the way back we took different trails and I have to admit we were lost for some time. However using the setting of the sun as a guide and eventually finding the distinct footprint of my Five Fingers, we made it back as the sun was setting. At some point my younger brother remembered he had GPS tracking on his phone. Once we used that I felt like we were cheating the system. Had we not had the GPS helping us, I was still glad my brother was there. Who else were the pups and I to eat later to survive?

Group Shot

Overlook

Cyprus taking in the view

Once we got back to my brother’s house and I had given each dog a quick post-adventure inspection for injuries I focused on bringing warmth and color back to my toes. Oh the burn! I think next time I will hesitate about wearing the KSO Treks in the snow for long time periods like that. In my pack I had picked up some additional rocks that I can use to slowly transition the weight capacity each dog can carry. Looking back I probably should have bought a Palisades pack for Cyprus, as I am not quite satisfied with the storage and water capacity of the Singletrak pack. The hike itself definitely finished off what CrossFit hadn't already beat out of my legs. We all slept well that night.

How to Eat Pigeon

Ingredients:
1 - City-Raised Pigeon, Freshly Caught

Directions:
Eating pigeon is extremely simple. If fact, it can be explained perfectly with photos:

Outside of my office we have had a group of hawks thinning out the pigeons and squirrels. Thought I would share.

CrossFit, My First Impressions

This past weekend I did my very first CrossFit workout. My older brother is a member of CrossFit Frederick and I joined him early Saturday for a holiday themed WOD at their facility. The WOD was as follows:

1. L-Pullup
2. Man-Makers
3. Box Jumps, 24"/20"
4. Ring Dips
5. Air Squats
6. 1 pood (35#) Kettlebell swings
7. Mountain Climbers (4 count)
8. Dumbbell Clean
9. Push-ups
10. Thrusters (45/30#)
11. Burpees
12. Glute-ham Sit-ups

Similar to the Twelve Days of Christmas song, we would do 12 sets with each set adding a new exercise and working our way back through the other exercises. So the first set was simply a single L-Pullup. The second set was 2 man-makers and a single L-Pullup. By the 10^th set I was beat, arms quivering and breathing fairly hard. The last two sets were killers and I was delusional trying to remember what to do next and keep proper form. It felt really good to finish and even today, two days later with every muscle aching, I am glad I pushed so hard.

I was thoroughly impressed with the gym. The instructors were very knowledgeable, were very good at being drill sergeants, and worked with me to make sure my form was correct. Having never tried many of the exercises, I really liked how they showed each exercise and how to scale it down before we got started. They also explained what muscles were worked by the different exercises between frequent interruptions by the group joking around. You could see the camaraderie among the members and see how they were there to have fun. Once the WOD began it was all business.

I can definitely see the appeal of CrossFit and if there was a gym close to me I would be a member without question. I am hoping to make morning CrossFit sessions a part of every visit with my brother. We followed our workout with a large breakfast of pastured eggs, bacon and scrapple I brought with me. My knee held up surprising well, so we followed breakfast with a long hike in the nearby mountain range with our dogs. Good times.

First Snow

So yesterday was the first real snow we have had this winter. The hounds both have a particular reaction when it comes to snow. Shaman has seen four winters and thinks he has seen enough for a lifetime. He goes outside to do what he has to do and that is that, time for the fireplace! Cyprus on the other hand loves the snow. She is all hops and sprints. To Shaman's “F**k This!”, Cyprus is more of a “F**k Yeah!” Needless to say, I got more photos of Cyprus.

Deer in the headlights look.

Flying.

Shaman moves a bit.

Who needs steps?

Ready to go in.

More Hiking Photos

Sunday following the Saturday Hike I took the dogs out to another park to hike. Here are a few pictures:

Shaman tends to stick by me.

I did not let Cyprus hold my cellphone this time.

Cyprus seeing if her vest is a flotation device.

Back on the dock.

Updates!

• Had a follow up appointment regarding my knee. Going to wait 3 months for the second surgery. I've been given clearance to run and be active. I've been missing my weekly sprints with the dogs. Need to find out what causes pain and/or instability. One hell of a way I plan to test this out is to:
• Do a CrossFit workout. This weekend I will be staying with my brother who goes to CrossFit Frederick. For as long as I've known about the Paleo/Primal lifestyle, I've known about CrossFit. They tend to go hand-in-hand in many ways. This will be my first go at it.
• After some more thought after last weekend's hike I ordered Shaman his own pack. This time I went with Ruffwear's Palisades Pack. I look forward to testing that out in the 3 months I have until the next surgery.
• Yes, I am still eating duck. And yes, it is still f**king amazing.
• Today marks 45 days of being strict Paleo. I've dropped a belt size... which has been quickly consumed by the extra layers I have to wear with this blistery cold weather we are having in Maryland.

Duck, It's Whats For Dinner (and Lunch All This Week)

Last week at one of the farmers markets I mentioned to the owner of Twin Post Farm, where I get both chicken and duck eggs, I would like to try a meat duck. She had both Pekin and Khaki Campbell available, the first being around 6lbs, the latter 3lb. I asked for one of each.

I bought the larger one at $4.50/lb ($27) and cooked it on Saturday. Using my River Cottage Meat Book I followed the Roast Duck and Beets recipe, substituting the potatoes and beets with sweet potatoes and buttercup winter squash, which I was able to find local and organicly grown.

The Duck and the Bible

Being my first time cooking duck I was a little anxious, but everything worked out fine. As compared to chicken, the duck was far fatter and the skin was tougher. I was used to being able to just pull the meat off the bone, whereas I had to use my knife for most of the duck.

Rendering Fat, Boiling Vegetables, Making Gravy

Another thing I've never done is render fat. As per the recipe, I pulled some of the excess fat out of the duck cavity and put it in one of my cast iron pans. After draining most of the fat into a jar, I fried the liver in the remaining. The taste of the cracklings and the liver were spectacular!

Rendered Duck Fat with Cracklings and Fried Liver

I have to say that the final product was amazing! The skin could have been a little crispier, but the meat and the fat were juicy and the gravy some of the best I've ever tasted.

Done Roasting

Final Product

I have yet to have a bad meal out of the Meat Book. At times I am tempted to just go through the whole book and try cooking everything.

Pre-Rinse Cycle

In the event you want to know what the hounds had for dinner:

Turkey Head and Feet with Duck Blood

Saturday Hike

Saturday, with the weather being a little chilly, I took the dogs for a hike at a local trail. Having just completed a month of physical therapy, I wanted to test out my knee. Also, having recently got a new pair of KSO Treks, I figured I would take those out of a test spin.

Cyprus and I were wearing packs, both mildly weighted. Cyprus wore Ruffwear's Singletrak Pack, both water bladders filled, and I let her carry my car keys and cell phone among other things I could fit into her pack. I have not yet bought a pack for Shaman for a few reasons. He is very adaptable and a great hiking partner, so I know other than getting him used to carrying a certain weight, he will have no problems. Cyprus, on the other hand, does not have the hiking or trail experience Shaman does, so I got her a pack first. Also, never having bought hiking packs for dogs before, I didn't want to buy two packs without trying them out first and I am confident my little lady will put it to the test.

We hiked for about an hour and a half. From one of my races earlier in the year I came across a large rock that fits perfectly in my hiking pack, weighing about 35lbs. Even with this weight my knee held up fine. For about 90% of the hike I was able to get both dogs to walk behind me, off leash, with no problems. Periodically Cyprus would sprint by us, but all I would have to do is whistle and she would come right back. I started making a game of this, giving her the okay to jet past me, typically saving it for uphill sections. She would sprint uphill with the weighted pack lightning fast. After several of these sprints she tired slightly and started behaving. I've found success in training by giving their misbehavior a command, and letting them do it periodically, such as chasing something or jumping up on a person, but only when I give the okay. So the dogs start waiting for me to give the okay before doing acting. They know it is coming and I can wait for a safe setting for them to be a dog.

In taking Leave No Trace to the next level, I walked with a plastic bag picking up trash along the way. Leave Less Trace I guess. I would get the dogs to stop and wait for me to pick up trash, either bending down or walking off trail to get something. By the end of the walk I had filled the bag completely, mostly with plastic bottles.

Anyway, here are some photos of our hike:

The hike got me thinking about this summer. Whereas I will not be doing any of the races I did last year and I will be recovering from a second surgery, I figured I would start planning a backpacking trip. I am considering 2 or 3 weeks of backcountry camping with the dogs, probably on the Appalachian Trail. While I am recovering from the surgery I will have plenty of time to plan and prep.

Coyotes and Greyhounds, is it Dog Fighting?

First, to soften you up, check out The Daily Coyote. Amazing photos of a domesticated coyote. I stumbled across the book about a year ago and very much enjoyed the photos in it.

Now on to the hunt. The NY Times back in April had an article with the following title: Coyote vs. Greyhound: The Battle Lines Are Drawn.

I've always thought Greyhounds looked like emaciated rats. Maybe that is just how they are bred for conformation and racing purposes. Most of the Greyhounds I have met have been rescued and were former racers. I think the ones shown in this article, as well as the mixed breeds, look far healthier and fitter than the ones I am used to.

Shaman and a Greyhound

The Oklahoma gentleman interviewed calls them calm and gentle in addition to being efficient killers. He argues that hunting coyotes is exactly what they were born and bred to do, what they live for. According to the AKC, the Greyhound is an ancient breed seen on Egyptian tombs are far back as 2900 B.C. “It was used on practically all kinds of game from deer, stags, foxes and such, but the hare is the Greyhound’s natural quarry.“ The history of the breed goes further to say they were brought over to the Americas by the Spanish and used to intimidate and punish the Indians. And George Washington is known to have traveled with a large greyhound named Azor during the American Revolution. So at least according to this brief history, it looks like the Greyhound has been quite the versatile hunting dog.

Although coyotes help control rodent populations and are important part of the ecosystem, they are considered a major pest by ranchers whose livestock are killed by them. The article goes on to state that in 2008 the federal Agriculture Department killed nearly 90,000 coyotes in 2008 by the use of traps, aerial gunning and bait filled with poisonous gas.

So if coyotes are pests, why not let them be hunted with dogs? The Chairwoman of the Washington Fish and Wildlife Commission Miranda Wecker thinks this is simply dogs ripping apart other dogs and should be likened to dog fighting rather than hunting. So is this man from Oklahoma more of a George Washington or a Michael Vick character?

The hunter continues with “If you didn't let them run, you would be denying what they were bred to do.” I fully agree with this. However they could hunt other things and not deny them the chase. Watching my two run after a deer, rabbit, or squirrel is a beautiful sight. And they come back with a twinkle in their eyes screaming “Best. Thing. Ever.”

I am torn. Since I was a little kid I always threw dogs in the same group as coyotes, foxes and wolves. So the child in me says this is dog fighting. However, having seen my dogs before, during and after a chase, I understand why this hunter does not see anything wrong with what he is doing.

The article mentions hunters often leave the coyote carcasses behind. If they are an overpopulated pest, I am possibly okay with this, however if I am going to hunt something I want to use what I've killed. I would not go so far as to feed the dogs coyote meat... I have major concerns about that, even though wolves are known to kill and eat coyotes from time to time. I am thinking the pelt could be used for many things, and I'd be willing to try to coyote meat.

I am going to side with the hunter on this one. Although I am 150% against dog fighting as a sport, I would be okay hunting coyotes with my dogs. When I get home I'll ask them if they would like to take a trip to Oklahoma.

Walking on Eggshells

Eggs tend to be a breakfast staple in my kitchen. I tend to eat as few as two to as many as a whole dozen each meal. I would like to note that have only eaten a dozen eggs the morning after one of my ultra-marathons or some equally as physically demanding event. I average probably four and ideally they come from different farms, and all from pastured, happy hens. More recently at least one of the eggs is from a duck. All this being said, I end up with a lot of eggshells and rather than just throw them away I have been trying to find something, anything to do with them.

At first, where there is still some egg white inside each shell, I would throw them outside and Cyprus would crush them a bit and eat a bit of them. After that I noticed my local blue jays were picking up the tiny pieces Cyprus left. Still, the quantity was a bit overwhelming and my backyard was starting to build up. Not enough blue jays I guess. And the lawnmower was not helping chop them up, so I decided to try something else.

Next I started adding them to my compost pile. Very soon the compost became 90% eggshells and coffee grounds. I know shells will break down, but unless they are crushed it will take a long time. And I was looking for a quick, yet sustainable, disposal method and crushing each and every shell into tiny pieces just didn't do it for me. So I went to the internet for ideas. From drain cleaners to skin-tightening face cream, I realized most options do not involve some quick and easy solution.

Therefore I have started a pilot program of keeping the shells in the kitchen. Once I collect a decent amount I will dry them out in my oven. I then take a morter and pestle, feeling like an alchemist, and break them down into a powder. I intend to work this egg powder in my yard in areas I plan on growing vegtables this spring.

Dried shells

Crushed shells

Stored shells

Ready to be worked into the soil

I am starting to realize that although something like this is neither quick or easy, it should pay off later with healthier vegetables.

Tracking a Beagle

Whether it is my knee being injured or the colder weather, I have found myself reminiscing on the many adventures I had this past year both planned and unplanned. One event that occurred over Easter weekend involved my friend’s beagle who managed to get outside of my fenced-in backyard and into the nearly 200 acres of woods behind my house. Here is the story as told to a friend in an email with a few edits:

Molly the Beagle

5am I fed all three dogs and then went back to bed. 8am I woke, ready to feed myself this time. I have been leaving my back door open so that the dogs could go in and out of the house and fenced backyard as they please. Right as I am about to fire up the cast iron to cook my bacon/eggs/liver/sausage power breakfast, Shaman comes trotting up with a look of concern. I look outside and Cyprus is at the back fence staring into the woods behind my house. I step outside and hear the baying of the beagle into the woods. Wearing a shirt and shorts, I threw on my KSO Treks, ran out the back door, jumped over the fence, and headed into the woods. I should note that I have never ventured into these woods because it is a dense combination of small pine trees and thick briars. 

I ran for a solid 10 minutes following the sound of the dog baying. The thought of losing my friend's dog was pushing me to run hard. After some time I realized I was not getting gaining on the dog and that the vegetation was getting thicker and harder to traverse. I turned around and ran back, coming out of the woods 2 houses down from mine. I ran to my house, grabbed my keys and the dogs, and drove to a road that parallels the large forest behind my house. With the window down I eventually came to a place ahead of the faint baying of the beagle. I pulled over, left the keys in the car, let the dogs out, and ran into the woods. I tried a "FIND Molly" command a few times, but it didn't do anything. Eventually, as we ran further, I noticed Shaman's ears perk up when Molly would bay, so I tried the "FIND Molly" command again this time he understood. So Cyprus and I followed Shaman... running about 4 miles through more trees and briars, but also several knee-deep swampy parts. I could not tell if we were gaining on her or not. Eventually I saw the white of her tail sticking up ahead. I yelled (in an angry voice) "Molly! Come here!"... but being a beagle on a trail she paid no attention to me. By this point I am extremely muddy and especially bloody from all the cuts on my arms and legs... and there is no way in hell I am going to let this dog keep on running. With adrenaline surging I commanded my dogs (in my deepest, guttural voice) "GET HER!"

Shaman and Cyprus take off. Shaman chooses a dryer, higher ground, while Cyprus runs straight at Molly. Cyprus slams into the little beagle and pins her, biting down on her sides. As Molly struggles to get away, Cyprus lets out a growl (that put my guttural voice to shame) that seemed to say "If you move I will rip you in half you little shit!" I run up, grab the beagle (who is now shaking like she has epilepsy), tell Cyprus to RELEASE, and hoist the little shit dog onto my shoulder. I praise both dogs and then tell Shaman to "TAKE THE LEAD", which I use when I want him to run ahead of me when we are out running trails. Again we follow Shaman... and, no lie, he brought us back out of the woods exactly where we went in. We make it out of the woods and to the road near my car. I currently look like Swamp Thing starred in the Passion of the Christ. I have both dogs WAIT while I make sure no cars are coming. No cars, but two cyclists were coming close. There I stood with a dog on each side, holding a shivering and drenched beagle on my shoulders, bleeding and muddy as they approached. "Happy Easter" I said. "Good morning" was returned in a rather shocked response as they proceeded to peddle harder and periodically looked back at me. I let the dogs get in the car, threw in the beagle, and headed home. I was ready for breakfast.

Back home, Beagle caught

So, after a long shower and pulling 11 embedded ticks off me (not counting what was on the dogs), I was able to eat breakfast for the first time in a long time feeling I earned it. I realized that there was no way I could be mad over the situation, as I had not lose my friend's dog, I had the most intense trail run yet, I got to combine my trailing running experience with my dog training experience, and my dogs performed flawlessly.

Minimalist Shoes

Want a chance to win a pair of minimalist shoes? Check out Running and Rambling's post. He will be giving away a pair of Terra Plana's VIVOBAREFOOT models.

I have a few planned posts on my experiences with several of the minimalist shoes out there. Ultimately I think going barefoot is the way to go but that is not always possible unfortunately. I first got started with a pair of Vibram Five Fingers for running and weight lifting. Wearing these to work, although comfortable, are not quite approved of. Being a Professional Engineer for a local government, I am not in to wearing athletic shoes for my day to day work. That is where Terra Plana comes in. Check them out and check out the give away mentioned above.

Updates!

Thank you for visiting Paleohund! Here are a few quick updates:

• I have started drafting various other pages and sections for this website. So lieu of posts I am preparing to work on a few of these pages.

• In the Paleo world, Low Carber Jimmy Moore has stirred up the issue of can Christianity and Paleo mix? Free the Animal's Richard Nikoley, who was quoted in the post, has his additional comments. Little do they know, they answer is YES. How can this be? The answer can be found here.

• This morning I had a cooked a deer heart omelet in pastured bacon fat. 6 eggs and about half a heart cubed. I am pretty sure if I had told myself several years ago that I would be eating something like this I would have probably shat myself. That being said, it was delicious!

Meditations on Hunting

One of my most favorite reads is a book called Meditations on Hunting by Spanish philosopher José Ortega y Gasset. At least once a year I have Enoch Pratt send me down a copy of the first translation of the work. Although I've been tempted to order the newer version, I have fallen in love with this older book and its penciled hunting illustrations between chapters. The book does not go into the details of hunting, but more into the larger topics of why we hunt today when we do not need to hunt to survive and how for Paleolithic man hunting was his occupation. The book also touches on the domestication of the modern dog to the scarcity of game and how it different classes viewed the hunt.

Here is an excerpt of the book from the chapter Suddenly We Hear The Sound of Barking:

Suddenly a dog's bark shatters the prevailing silence. This bark is not merely a point of noise that appears at a spot on the mountain and remains there - rather it seems to extend rapidly in a line. We hear, and almost see, the barking run loose, weaving swiftly through space like some erratic star. In an instant the barking runs over the plains like a lightning bolt. Many different voices follow it, advancing in the same way. The game is seen, raised in dizzying flight like wind on the wind. The entire countryside is polarized, seemingly magnetized. The fear of the pursued animal is like a vacuum into which everything in the environs is thrown. Beaters, dogs, small game, everything heads that way, and even the birds, frightened, fly rapidly in that direction. The fear which causes the beast to flee absorbs the entire countryside, suctions it, carries it racing along behind, and even the hunter, outwardly quiet, is inwardly moved, his heart racing wildly. The beast's fear... but is it so certain that the beast is afraid? At least his fear is not at all like fear in man. In the animal fear is permanent; it is his way of life, his occupation. We are talking, then, about a professional fear, and when something becomes professionalized it is quite different. Therefore, while fear makes man slow of mind and movement, it carries the faculties of the beast to their greatest performance. Animal life culminates in fear. Skillfully the stag eludes the obstacle; with millimetric precision he threads swiftly through the gap between two tree trunks. Nose to the wind, neck arched, he lets swing free the regal antlery which balances his acrobatics, as the pole does for the tightrope walker. He gains distance with the speed of a meteor. His hoofs hardly touch the ground; rather, as Nietzsche says of the dancer, he limits himself to acknowledging it with the point of his foot; acknowledging it in order to eliminate it, in order to leave it behind. Suddenly, on the spine of a low ridge the stag appears to the hunter; he sees him cut across the sky with the elegant grace of a constellation, launched there by the springs of his slender extremities. The leap of the roe dear or stag - and even more of certain antelopes - is perhaps the most beautiful event that occurs in Nature. He lands again at a distance and accelerates his flight, because the snorting dogs are close on his heels-the dogs, abettors of all this vertigo, that have transmitted their delightful frenzy to the mountain and now, in pursuit of the game, tongues hanging out, bodies stretched to their full length, gallop obsessed-hound, mastiff, beagle, greyhound.

Although this is a translation from Spanish, it is still breathtaking. Most of the book is written in this manner, quasi-philosophical musings from well thought out ideas. He also speaks of our evolution from a hunter-gatherer people without skirting around any of the biblical bull. Also in this chapter:

The dog enters domesticity toward the end of the Paleolithic Age, in the later Capsian culture, contemporaneous with the Solutrean-Magdalenian. Its first documented appearance in found in Spain, in the Cave of the Old Woman of Alpera. It seems that it was not yet use in hunting. This happens a little later, at the beginning of the Neolithic Age, in the period called Maglemosian. The dog was, then, the first domestic animal. It is not even certain that man domesticated it; certain evidence suggests that the dog spontaneously approached man. Doubtless the leavings of food attracted him. Perhaps, even more than food, the dog found something else attractive in being close to man: warmth. It is enough to see the happiness of today's dog when he is beside a fire. The coals intoxicate him, and do not forget that man is, first and foremost, the animal with fire in his fist. The manipulation of fire, the success of having it at his disposal, was man's first physical discovery and the root of all the others. Before anything else, he dominated flame; he arises in Nature as the flammiferous beat.

Domesticated by fire?

I think I can accept the advent of domesticated dogs occurred through our ancestor's use of fire. I am sure the people that managed to befriend these canine beasts had many other benefits than simply a hunting partner. They had the protection and intimidation abilities, and maybe a few found the companionship enjoyable. And I am sure that the scraps mentioned above are similar to the scraps my hounds get, as I cannot physically eat every part of the animal. But going back to fire, I've taken Shaman to countless bonfires and he seems to have a natural inclination to hang by the fire. Now he never tries to jump over the flame like I've often done, he does keep his distance. But I have seen the intoxication mentioned above, staring into the flames absorbed.

The chapter goes on to touch topics like MovNat's Zoo Human concept. I am sure no one will accept the charge of being degenerate, but Ortega y Gasset presents his case like this:

From the zoological point of view, the domesticated animal is a degenerate one, as is man himself. In the artificial existence which man offers, the beast loses not a few of his instincts, even though he refines others which man needs and tries to select in breeding. The space left in the animal’s life by the loss of these instincts is filled by teaching and training. But generally this is something that is only trivially and superficially understood. Through training man introduces certain forms of human conduct in the animal. That is, domestication partially de-animalizes and partially humanizes the beast. This is to say that the domestic animal is an intermediate reality between the pure animal and man, which, in turn, is to say that something like reason operates in the domestic animal. That is what has never been pointed out, although it is completely obvious.

Cyprus: U Degenerate!   Prynn: Yo Momma Degenerate!

Later in the book the topic of hunting as an escape, a vacation from the human condition are delved into.

Man cannot re-enter Nature except by temporarily rehabilitating that part of himself which is still an animal. And this, in turn, can be achieved only by placing himself in relation to another animal. But there is no animal, pure animal, other than the wild one, and the relationship with him is the hunt.

Only the wild animal is properly in the countryside, not just on top of it, simply having it in view. If we want to enjoy that intense pure happiness which is a “return to Nature,” we have to seek the company of the surly beast, descend to his level, feel emulation toward him, pursue him. This subtle rite is the hunt.

Simply put, we should embrace our hunting ancestors and grab our gun or bow or spear and hunt (and do not forget your degenerate wolf!). Now I won't go so far as to say find you a club and you will be able to take any woman back to your cave. But maybe we should step out of our cubicles with their artificial light and give hunting a shot.