Picture: from ''Livre de La Chasse'' by Gaston Phoebus, a Medieval manuscript
On the way back from the market today, we passed a group of vehicles parked on a side road that looked like a camionette convention. Camionettes are those ubiquitous small white vans that every farmer, worker, and delivery person drives in France (we own one ourselves, actually). And we knew exactly what that little gathering meant: the hunting season est arrivé.
Frenchmen in the countryside are enthusiastic hunters. They are well-known for shooting at anything that moves, and for hunting under the influence. Some say escaping the home front for a drink or three with the guys is the real purpose of the sport here. It may seem like good fun, but they killed a young woman who was passing by in a town near us not long ago, though I imagine that more often their mistaken targets are each other.
As a consequence, walks in the countryside on hunting days are to be avoided at all costs. Our instructions from French friends were: Don’t do it, but if you must go out, wear red and whistle loudly. We were walking in the woods once a few years ago and came across a couple of hunters, sprawled out and sleeping near the path, several empty wine bottles scattered about. Oops! Wrong day for a walk. We whooped it up and sang loudly all the way home, nervously listening to shots in the near distance.
Today I think about the pretty pheasant we braked for on that same road earlier that morning, the one who then ran alongside our car for a while. Not much challenge to shooting this friendly fellow; as Ron says, he looks like he would have jumped in if we opened the car door. He seems much too colorful and incautious to survive the day.
But mainly I’m concerned about the Poubelle Cats. This is a group of eight-ish stray cats who were abandoned at the poubelles, the community trash and recyling bins a few years ago, where the hunters have gathered today. When we couldn’t find homes for the cats, a group of us, feline lovers all, had them neutered and then moved them down the road a bit and built them a tiny cabin. We have a team who take turns feeding them, daily. Now they come when we call and swirl about our feet when we arrive. They live in these woods and could be mistaken for a rabbit or other small animal. And unfortunately, there are a few hunters who will shoot feral cats for sport. Photo: Meet Kittiepoo and Thom, two of the Poubelle Cats.
So now we pull our little white truck up alongside the others. I swallow hard, then get out, an étranger facing a group of armed men. Mustering a polite smile, I explain that stray cats roam these woods, but they are beloved cats, known and adored by our entire village. I describe their colors, and ask them to watch out for them (I don't suppose I dare plead for the life of a pleasant pheasant?).
The hunters are polite, and shake their heads. “We don’t shoot cats, Madame,” they say. “And we know about those cats”. Indeed, we’ve had this conversation before. I‘ve stopped in years past, when I’ve see them unloading their guns, and put in a hopeful word.
One of them holds a wine bottle, and another holds up his hand, in which there are a stack of small glasses. “We really just come for this,” he says, laughing.
Ron jokes that he may join them, if that’s all that’s involved. “A day drinking with the guys,” he says, “ammunition optional!” Will they drink enough so their aim is lousy, or will they drink so much that they can’t tell a cat from a squirrel? We haven’t lost a cat yet, and I can only hope that this year we’ll be lucky again.
Photo: Pauline waits for her Meals On Wheels.
Favorite Reads: From the Red Bicycle blog, about an expat living in Lyon, comes a great book review on Paris: Made by Hand: 50 Shops Where Decorators and Stylists Source the Chic & Unique which made me want to buy it toute de suite.
In the Comments this week: Hey Suzanne, the gratin will not be over the top. That's what Thanksgving is all about! Joyce evens add bacon, oh la la. Beth has a wamped-up gratin recipe for us that you absolutely must try, it looks amazing. Linda is musing about French cookbooks (yes, I was in the 'Literary Guild' too, and I have those books!), and Jane, who lives in the area, has some good wine/winery recommendations. Julie, come on, give up the name of that great bistro! Merci, as always, for your enlightening comments.
Our Reader's Blogs: Serious antiquers take note--you will find a wealth of information on Barbara's blog, The Wise Collector. As you might suspect, I'm a big fan of In a Southern Kitchen, Lucy's blog (she's talking chocolate chip cookies this week). ReaderJoyce lived in England but now blogs From This Side of the Pond.