SHOOTING TIMES Saving greys
I’ll always remember the first grey partridge I saw. I was on a small day in East Anglia and there was a beautiful little Englishman laid out on the grass at the end of proceedings. “Who shot it then?” the keeper asked, in an avuncular tone. I was sure I hadn’t, but none of the other Guns thought they had either. In the end, one of the pickers-up said he reckoned it was my host’s young cousin. Admittedly, we hadn’t been told not to shoot greys, but the fact that the lad had no idea what he’d done or why the bird was special is something that’s stayed with me. I do wonder how many populations have been wiped out through ignorance over the years. On the flip side, we all…