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CATALINA CULLING CONFLICT By John Vogel

Hell hath no fury like a crazy cat lady.

Catalina Island sits 26 miles off the coast of Southern California. Surrounded on all sides by crystal clear Pacific ocean, it is an incredibly popular destination for tourists, fishermen, and boaters. There is a resident bison herd of about 150, left behind after a 1930’s movie shoot, five native animal species, one Zane Grey Hotel, 4000 human residents, and 1800 deer, all shoved into 76 square miles.

The Catalina Island Conservancy, which oversees 48,000 acres of land, has reported that the isolated environment is in serious trouble, as native flora and fauna are getting absolutely decimated by the pesky and overbearing deer population. The deer were originally brought over to encourage an ideal hunting opportunity for Southern Californians in the 1930’s, but with no natural predators on the island, and California hunters dwindling, things got out of hand and the population exploded well over the 500 deer carrying capacity.

The goal is to maintain native fauna, replant the flora, and further prevent erosion caused by record rains the past year. First, they will need to begin a more aggressive deer management strategy to bring the population to an appropriate number. The Conservancy is proposing using a contractor, White Buffalo Inc, to utilize helicopters and riflemen to efficiently target and remove portions of the deer population—i.e. they are going to shoot and kill the deer. Aerial operations have proven effective in combating runaway populations of species throughout the world, including California’s Channel Islands, resulting in faster, ethical solutions.

Seems reasonable right?

Not to the local cat ladies. The Catalina Island Humane Society is the island’s only animal rescue shelter, and as of right now, only advertises cat adoption (no cats listed as of this writing), but they are raising hell. As soon as the Conservancy posted their plans to restore the island, the cat ladies declared war. A petition started making the rounds that told readers that the Conservancy planned to slaughter deer that belong to residents, whatever the hell that means. As of Monday morning there are 3500 signers of the petition and are pleading with State Fish and Wildlife (who helped plan this) to step in and “save” the deer. Irony so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Up until now, the island has had a set management plan in place in the form of 200 deer tags issued a year to members, but with the island’s capacity of 500 deer, there are about 1300 too many. With the record rains that hit the island this past year, the population is expected to boom, and planning ahead for massive drought, this won’t go well for the large population.

The Conservancy is faced with a very steep uphill battle. Not only will a group with “humane” and “society” in its title dredge up the usual army of online keyboard conservationists, but this being California, they will most likely gain the attention of every desperate politician wanting to virtue signal their way into reelection. Don’t be shocked to see an ensemble cast of Hollywood actors supporting non-science based conservation when they begin defending deer they will never see. The idea of AR-15 wielding hunters flying in on helicopters like Apocalypse Now (with or without “The Ride of the Valkyries” blaring) slaying Bambi’s mom will attract every group from PETA to Moms Against Braincells, or whatever they’re called.

The fact of the matter is, the Conservancy and Cal Fish and Wildlife have agreed on a solid plan to restore equilibrium. They understand that as stewards of the island, the habitat must be properly managed—not just for the wildlife, but for the inhabitants too. What the cat ladies are proposing is a plan made of make believe, where the deer will magically leave the island and everything will go back to normal. Culling, while not necessarily PR friendly, is a proven method of containment and control whether in South Africa, Texas, or California. In order to save the island and its native populations, the plan needs to be enacted fast, as winter storms will only prove more devastating, and next year’s drought will certainly make it worse.

Usually, we can assume that scientific-based conservation will win, but with this being California, don’t be shocked when cat ladies and public opinion dominate. This will be an interesting story to follow.

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Obituary for Robert Adolph Boehm

Robert Adolph Boehm, in accordance with his lifelong dedication to his own personal brand of decorum, muttered his last unintelligible and likely unnecessary curse on October 6, 2024, shortly before tripping backward over “some stupid mother****ing thing” and hitting his head on the floor.

Robert was born in Winters, TX, to the late Walter Boehm and Betty Smith on May 6, 1950, after which God immediately and thankfully broke the mold and attempted to cover up the evidence.

Raised Catholic, Robert managed to get his wife Dianne pregnant (three times) fast enough to just barely miss getting drafted into the Vietnam War by fathering Michelle, John, and Charlotte between 1967 and 1972. Much later, with Robert possibly concerned about the brewing conflict in Grenada, Charles was born in 1983.

This lack of military service was probably for the best, as when taking up shooting as a hobby in his later years, he managed to blow not one, but two holes in the dash of his own car on two separate occasions, which unfortunately did not even startle, let alone surprise, his dear wife Dianne, who was much accustomed to such happenings in his presence and may have actually been safer in the jungles of Vietnam the entire time.

While the world was in conflict elsewhere, Robert made due by learning to roof, maintain traffic signs with the City of Amarillo, and eventually becoming a semi-professional truck driver—not to be confused with a professional semi-truck driver.

With peace on the horizon, Robert’s attention somewhat counterintuitively drifted to weapons of war, spanning the historical and geographical spectrum from the atlatl of 19,000 BC France, to the sjambok of 1830s Africa, to the Mosin-Nagant M1891 of WWII-era Soviet Union.

So many examples of these mainstream hobbyist items litter his small Clarendon, Texas, apartment that one of them may very well have been the item referenced in his aforementioned eloquent final epitaph.

A man of many interests, Robert was not to be entranced by historical weapons alone, but also had a penchant for fashion, frequently seen about town wearing the latest trend in homemade leather moccasins, a wide collection of unconventional hats, and boldly mismatched shirts and pants.

Robert also kept a wide selection of harmonicas on hand—not to play personally, but to prompt his beloved dogs to howl continuously at odd hours of the night to entertain his many neighbors, and occasionally to give to his many, many, many grandchildren and great-grandchildren to play loudly during long road trips with their parents.

Earlier this year, in February, God finally showed mercy upon Dianne, getting her the hell out of there for some well-earned peace and quiet. Without Dianne to gleefully entertain, Robert shifted his creative focus to the entertainment of you, the fine townspeople of Clarendon, Texas. Over the last eight months, if you have not met Robert or seen his road show yet, you probably would have soon.

We have all done our best to enjoy/weather Robert’s antics up to this point, but he is God’s problem now.

Robert’s farewell tour will be held Monday, October 14th, at 10 a.m. at Memorial Park Funeral Home, 6969 E Interstate 40 Hwy, Amarillo, TX 79118. The family encourages you to dust off whatever outdated or inappropriate combination of clothing you have available to attend. A tip jar will be available in the front; flowers are also acceptable.

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