TGN - In April of this year, in the frozen wastelands of Canada's Northwest territories, a never before documented marvel of nature presented itself to humanity: The first grizzly/polar bear hybrid of the wild was discovered. Right before it was promptly slaughtered.
An American hunter on a snow-safari, shamefully guided by an expert Inuit tracker who should have known better, brought the near mythological beast down. Only later was the startlingly true genetic identity of the odd looking creature confirmed through DNA testing.
"You just don't see that in nature, offspring from Polars and Grizzlies," explained Eco-Professor Dilbert Weed of Hypothermia By the Lake. The eminent naturalist, known as "Dil" to admirers in nature defense circles, additionally lamented, "It's a damn bit of bad, dumb luck, a hunter with a ‘gun,' rather than a scientist with a ‘notebook,' coming across that marvelous creature."
Or was it? Did dumb luck have anything to do with this terrible tragedy?
Though the evidence is scanty and preliminary at this stage, all precautions must be taken. The alarm must be sounded. There'll be no second chances if we who are the Earth's friend don't take swift and decisive action to stave off the coming brutal extinctions. Environmentalists, ecofeminists and all good friends of the animal kingdom everywhere must heed the omen, the trouble presaged by this killing: man, ever the restless hunter, is out to get the rarest the animal kingdom has to offer.
That is why Harriet Harmpitz, president and co-founder of The Gaia Network, along with the WWF, the Audubon Society, the Sierra Club, Greenpeace and the Buffalo chapter of Beast-Buggerers have already hastily convened their first symposium, Environcon 2006. There, they crafted a document of urgent intent, one that solicited the environmental wing of the UN, UNEP, and Kofi Annan, the Secretary General of the parent body itself, to take immediate, remedial action.
Their initial petition, the first of many sure to follow?
A demand for new, global legislation, to ban hunters from certain, targeted habitats; to be enforced by the U.N. World Court, so as to supersede local, national laws.
Their ultimate goal?
To preserve and protect the rarified world of Mother Nature. Such a grand undertaking can only be done in stages, but the initial battles will be launched, and the ultimate war will be won.
The first two specifically designated areas and the species contained within?
First, the Northwest of America and Canada, where the elusive Bigfoot must be allowed to live quietly, just as that noble, secretive creature has done for centuries, when it uniquely branched off the main simian evolutionary line. Thus, no one with a gun, on his person or in his home, must be allowed to reside, or even step, within said territory. (Its eastern borders will be defined later.) Furthermore, booby-trapped pic-i-nic baskets left in the forest are a no-no.
Another high-priority geographical area is the Scottish Highlands, a spot in need of desperate, long overdue protection. No harpoons, oversized fishing hooks, or one or two-man submarines shall be permitted in this new nature preserve. Then, and only then, can the Loch Ness Monster go about its way as Mother Gaia had intended it to do: unmolested, unbridled and under water, where no must ever see it frolicking in the murky depths.
And this is just the beginning. The defenders of those secretive animals who can't defend themselves have further plans, big plans, to safeguard species not yet documented.
"When we're done," vowed Miss Harmpitz, "Harrie" to her friends, none of which qualify as human, "all creatures of the cryptozoological realm are going to feel a lot safer than they do today. Whether it's the Chupabcabra that claims the southern hemisphere, or the Jersey Devil ensconced in the Northeastern forests, and not in the least, the ‘One-eyed Pike,' and its cousin, the ‘Bone Fish,' both of which are so often spotted in the Bath Houses of San Francisco . . . 'we' shan't rest till 'they' are comfortably at rest - in the wild."
Final Note: One hard to spot creature of the unpaved world, the Leprechaun, didn't even come up for serious discussion. Four reasons were cited for its permanent exclusion: Too humanlike in appearance, too materialistic in its outlook, too drunken in its behavior, and too vulgarly Irish for some of the more prissy members.