You Can't Toss An Eel In England, But You Can Go On A Camel

Every so often I take a look at the British Broadcasting Corporation's news to get a

different angle on world events. When I did that the other day, I was flooded with stories that show that things are not quite right between animals and people in England these days.

There is, of course, one simple explanation for the problem it's England.We are, after all, talking about a country where the Prince married a woman with an uncanny similarity to Secretariat.

In one story I learned that the annual conger cuddling tournament had been cancelled after complaints by a lone animal rights activist.

The tournament has raised thousands of pounds for the local lifeboat crews over the past thirty or forty years. It would seem to be something along the lines of a giant bowling or skittles game, with teams of fishermen as the pins and a twenty-five pound dead eel suspended from a rope as the ball. The teams take turns attempting to knock each other from platforms by hurling the giant dead eel at them.

This is called fun in England.

They've been doing it for over thirty years in the town of Lyme-Regis southwest of London. The fact that the town name sounds remarkably similar to a drink involving copious amounts of gin, might explain why the residents there are willing to hurl giant dead eels at one another. Then again, it could just be because they are British.

Women in North America often complain about construction crews heckling them as they walk past. Apparently, British construction crews do not like having the roles reversed. No, British women are not ganging up to hurl rude comments at the workers. Apparently, the construction crew in question has had to seek protection from a band of heckling baboons.

Work is underway at the Knowsley Safari Park near Liverpool on a new enclosure for the baboons and other primates. It's one of those zoos where the animals roam freely and visitors drive through in their cars.To protect themselves from approximately 120 primate hecklers, the workers have installed an electric fence, thereby making them the only animals in the zoo that are effectively in a cage. I know several women who would agree that it is a good place for construction workers. These same baboons were also in the news for stealing World Cup flags from cars in the park, giving us one more similarity between baboons and British soccer fans.

Another recent BBC news item was about a farmer in the Goonhilly area of Cornwall. (Believe me; I couldn't make up a name like that). He has started offering camel treks across the Lizard. I thought it sounded like a way to get rid of small reptiles at first, but it turned out that the Lizard is some sort of a peninsula.

I may have also missed something in the translation between English and English when I read that the farmer said, "Even people who usually ride horses want to experience going on a camel."

I used to have a neighbor who claimed that going on an anthill was better than any insecticide for getting rid of them, but I can't imagine anyone who would want to go on a camel. I should think the People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals would be jumping out of their plastic sandals at the thought.

My favorite recent animal story out of Dear Olde England was about a woman in London forced to remove a sign from her front lawn that says, "Our dogs are fed on Jehovah Witnesses."

She's had the sign for over thirty years after some Jehovah Witnesses knocked on her door on Christmas morning. Apparently someone did not like the idea of feeding members of a religious group to dogs.

Margo Bates tells the story in her very funny book, PS. Don't Tell Your Mother, about how her grandmother took shot at the local Jehovah Witness in a community in northern British Columbia, but she wouldn't have fed him to her dogs. I for one would never consider feeding my dog a Jehovah Witness.

I'd be afraid she'd never stop scratching at the front door.

2006, Gordon Kirkland