Outdoor Writer

I wrote the following more than 20 years ago as one of my LAST SHOT columns for AZ Hunter and Angler. Some of the stats would obviously differ now, likely leaning toward the worse side. WE'RE LOSIN' 'EM It's no big secret the number of hunters on a national level has declined over the last two decades. With the growth of many small cities into larger cities, a less rural population has resulted. This alone has cut hunter numbers. The seemingly parallel decline occurring in Arizona -- once considered to have a very "rural" population -- is even more distressing. Unquestionably, the cities here have also grown rapidly. In the Phoenix metro area alone, the population has jumped from 900,000 in 1965 to 2.3 million now. The state's overall people count has increased proportionally, too. Yet, despite the huge influx of people into Arizona, the sales of hunting licenses have fallen substantially from historic highs. At a recent Arizona Game and Fish Commission meeting, Education Branch Chief Kerry Baldwin explained the history of license sales. He cited a steady growth in license sales from World War II into the 1970s. The gas crisis of the 1970s signaled the peak of license sales growth relative to the changing population across the country. The key years appear to be 1970-71, when most of Arizona's big-game hunts went to a permit system. Baldwin also pointed to the large drop in youngsters between 10 and 20 years old now getting into hunting. Overall only 5.6 percent of Arizona's residents bought licenses in 1987 compared to 9 percent of the total population in 1967. The number of youths buying licenses declined even worse. Many factors have played a part in the overall decline. A poor economy, adverse weather and high gas prices have had noticeable but short-term effects over the years. Declines in specific game populations and regulation changes like the permit system played key roles, as well. More discouraging, though, are the long-term variables -- the ones that will carry over for the coming decades and possibly predict the future of hunting in this country. First, we have an aging population. This especially shows among licensed hunters because of the lower recruitment of youngsters. As more hunters get older and quit hunting altogether, fewer people will take their place in the outdoors. Earlier, I mentioned the growth of cities. With this upsurge in a more urban population, fewer and fewer youngsters get to experience the outdoors on a firsthand basis. Instead, they might watch the Discovery or Disney channel to learn about wildlife and the outdoors. By the time they become adults, their only experiences with live animals other than a domestic pet might come from a zoo. Lifestyles have also changed drastically in the last 30 years. In many families both parents MUST work just to pay the bills. Thus, they have little free time for hunting. Instead, the adults take up golf, tennis, bowling or other pastime -- ones they can enjoy close to home and over a few hours. To them, finding time to play 18 holes is a lot easier than finding a few days to hunt deer. These people spend a large part of their expendable income closer to home, too. No doubt the current trend in the family makeup accounts for at least some of the lack of recruitment among youths, and it's less than encouraging: * 30 percent of all children live in a one-parent family; * 50 percent of all children will live with one parent by age 18; * 90 percent of all single-parent families have a woman as the that parent; * 10 percent of the population is comprised of 15-19 year olds; * 93 percent of the hunters in Arizona are males. Most juvenile hunters come from homes where hunting and fishing have been a traditional part of the adult family member's lifestyle, according to Baldwin. If juveniles do not participate in hunting or fishing by the time they hit 18 years old, they likely never will. The current surveys support this; 85 percent of current hunting license buyers started before they reached 18 years of age. Many of my neighbors show just how true these statistics are. At least three families on my block consist of a divorced mother and one or more children. One lives across the street. The mother has been alone for nearly 12 years and somehow has made do on her earnings from two low paying jobs. She was determined to keep herself and three kids off the welfare roles. When I first talked to the oldest boy nearly 10 years ago, James was 11. I had been unpacking my truck after a deer hunt, and James was cutting his front lawn. When he saw me unload the caped skull of a buck, he shut down the lawn mower and walked across the street just to visit. During our conversation, I found out he had never hunted and fished only at the park about a mile away. He told me his mother simply never had time to take him. From what I already knew, she probably didn't have the money to spend on even the most minimal equipment either. Two weeks after the deer hunt, I invited James into my house to see my collection of trophy mounts. They somewhat awed him at first. During the next few months, though, he became a regular visitor. He always enjoyed talking about my trips and looking at the photos from the successful ones. All my kids are long gone, and I always have these leftover fishing rods, reels, lures, line, baseball hats and other sundry goodies, courtesy of the manufacturers. Plus, my closet contains at least 15 firearms, and I can only use one at a time. So about five years ago I decided to "adopt" James. During one of his visits, I asked if he thought his mother would let him hunt. He said he didn't know but he would ask. A day later, I heard a loud knock. When I opened door, James was standing there with a very big smile on his face. "She said I can." "She said you can what?" I asked. "I can go hunting with you." "Aha, now I understand. Good. But first things first. There's a thing or two we need to get done. I want you to take a hunter education course. Just tell your mom I'll take care of the registration fee and get you to classes." The next day I called the game department and got the dates for the next hunter ed class in our neighborhood. James and I attended together, and he graduated with flying colors. A week later, I took him out to the desert and let him shoot some clay birds with my 20 gauge shotgun. We made two more forays to the desert before I felt he had progressed enough to shoot at a live bird without becoming discouraged over missing. On the way home from that third trip, I stopped at a license dealer and bought James his first hunting and fishing license. The next weekend James killed a limit of doves. A week later, we went fishing at Lake Pleasant. He was hooked. James is now 20 and attending an out-of-town college on an academic scholarship and majoring in biology. He wants to be a wildlife researcher. He finds little time for hunting and fishing now but still manages to stop by my house and reminisce whenever he comes home to see his mom. Naturally, his mother is proud of James' scholastic accomplishments -- and deservedly so. I have no doubt the youngster will get back to hunting and fishing once he graduates. Before he left for school last August, he told me he would be home for the Thanksgiving holidays and would like to do a little quail hunting with me and my German shorthair if I have the time. Of course, I made the time. If hunting is to survive, we need all the help we can get. James and youngsters like him represent the best help around. ----- 30 -----

It must have been someone else then, because I know the incident did happen.

Bill, I seem to recall an incident with Prock here in AZ that occurred about 50 years ago, like in the early to mid 1960s. I'm not positive it actually involved him, but I recall someone getting nailed somewhere in one of the White Mt. towns or maybe Payson with a lion in a cage. If my memory is correct, Prock -- or whoever it was -- was having lunch in a local restaurant when someone, maybe an AGFD guy, spotted the caged cat in the back of Prock's truck. Do you recall any of that or perhaps know who that was?

Rare ocelot observed in southern Arizona Feb. 8, 2011 PHOENIX – Arizona Game and Fish Department officials report that a rare ocelot was observed this morning (Feb. 8) in the Huachuca Mountains in southern Arizona. An individual called Game and Fish this morning to report that while he was working in his yard in the Huachuca Mountains, his dogs began barking at a cat-like animal which quickly climbed a tree. The individual drew closer and suspected that the small spotted cat might be an ocelot. An ocelot is a rare and endangered species of cat. The man called Game and Fish and an officer responded to the site and confirmed that it was, in fact, an ocelot. The officer did a non-intrusive, visual inspection of the animal from the ground near the tree, and the animal appeared to be healthy. There was no indication that there had been any dog-to-cat direct interaction, as no wounds were visible on any animal. As with all wildlife-human interaction cases, photos were taken of the animal (attached). The officer was also able to retrieve some scat samples from the scene. Once the final confirmation was determined, the officer directed that all humans and dogs retreat from the area, and the ocelot, apparently unharmed, was allowed to go on his way. Ocelots are small to medium-sized spotted cats with a long tail. These cats have been listed as endangered since 1982 under the Federal Endangered Species Act. Since being listed, ocelots have only rarely been seen in Arizona. Only one other ocelot, an animal run over near Globe in April 2010, has been confirmed in Arizona since the mid 1960s. One other ocelot was reportedly captured on film by the Sky Island Alliance in November of 2009; however, it has not been possible to fully verify the species or the animal’s origin based on that photo. Ocelots tend to be smaller in size in the more northerly portions of their habitat range than those individuals in the central or southern habitat areas. The upper body coloring is highly variable, ranging from grayish to cinnamon or tawny to reddish brown. Dark markings form chainlike streaks down the sides of the ocelot’s body. They have a long, curling, ringed tail that wraps around limbs for stability and is very indicative of the species. The present range for ocelots is in the eastern and western lowlands of Mexico, from southern Mexico through Central America and in the lowland areas of Colombia, Ecuador, Peru and Brazil. On the fringes of their range, they occupy a very limited region in both the United States (a remnant population exists in Southern Texas) and Argentina. And now Arizona can be included in that range. Other animals such as bobcats and young mountain lions are sometimes misidentified as ocelots, which is why verification is so very important. Arizona Game and Fish will work together with the U. S. Fish and Wildlife Service to review materials from the site and the photos to attempt to determine whether or not this was a naturally occurring ocelot. Some ocelots are known to be kept as pets, and occasionally, individual animals escape or are released into the wild. Ocelots are protected by the Endangered Species Act and should be left alone. If anyone encounters a cat believed to be an ocelot, we would request that all sightings and photos along with observation information be reported immediately to the department. More information and additional photos will be made available Wednesday, visit www.azgfd.gov for details.

Amanda, I assume, for Bill's sake, there will still be e-mail notification when we get a PM, no? I also reverted to the basic skin. That black background was too surreal and hard on the old eyes. The white motif isn't great but at least better.

It's a sad day in the Mandile household today. My Lab, Sasha died last night. She was quite normal when we went to bed last night, so we have no idea what caused it.

Since the time I found Sasha early Weds., I’ve had a real difficult time coping with it. Every time I see something that reminds of her or if I think about her, I become a blubbering sissy. I spoke to her vet yesterday and she guessed it was either a heart attack or some sort of stroke. Sasha had her full annual check-up about a month ago, and nothing was amiss. She’s been on thyroid medication for about a year. Even had her weight down to 80 lbs. What really bothers me most is not knowing if she could have been saved. I’ll never know if quick medical attention might have prevented her death if it had happened while I was awake. It’s especially bothersome considering she was fine not hours before. The fact she went into that front bedroom to die makes me think she knew it was happening and seemingly didn’t want us to know it or find her. Otherwise I can’t explain why she would be where I found her since she never ventured into that room without El or I being there. Worst of all, though, I never had a chance to say goodbye.

I thought I was pretty tough in situations like this, but Weds. was a really rough day for me. That's why my initial message was short and to the point. When I sat on the couch to watch TV Tues. night, Sasha came running with her Kong toy, as she often did. She'd bring it to me and then back off about 6-8 ft. so I could throw it for her to catch in mid-air. She kept at it until I told her "no more." When I did that, she laid down on the floor next to me, between the couch and the coffee table. Her Kong was nestled between her front paws next to her nose. That was the last time I saw her alive. I eventually fell asleep on the couch where I spent the night. Weds. morning, I woke up about 4:15, turned on the kitchen light and made coffee, etc., etc. Usually as soon as I get up, Sasha would be at my heels. I was awake for about two hours when I finally realized I hadn't seen her. I began looking. She wasn't in any of her usual haunts. First place I checked was the couch in the front living room where she often sleeps; it's the only piece of furniture in the entire house she was allowed access to. The couch was empty. I then started checking all the other empty, dark rooms by calling her name from the doorways. When she didn't come to my calls, I went out back and called for her from the patio. Nothing. By now, it was about time for my wife to get up, so I opened the bedroom door and turned on the light to see if Sasha might have been closed in there when Ellen had gone to bed. Sasha wasn't there either. So I asked my wife if she had maybe opened the front door after I fell asleep. Although I knew Sasha wouldn't go anywhere, I thought perhaps she had been isolated to the front patio. But the few times that has happened, she barked continuously until one of us let her into the house again. But Ellen hadn't been out front at all since she got home from work at 5:30. I decided to check each room again. I turned on the light in the spare front bedroom -- one Sasha rarely went into unless Ellen or I were in there for something. I could see her nose sticking out on the far side of one of the beds in there. I walked over, sat on the other bed and could tell she wasn't breathing even before I reached down to touch her. My wife walked in right behind me, and all I could say was "She's dead." Ellen said, "Oh no." By then, I was already in tears. Ellen joined me. It was really quiet and sad here yesterday as I went about the business of doing what I had to do with Sasha's lifeless body. Few words were exchanged at the dinner table last night. This morning isn't much better as I move about the house and see Sasha's crate, toys, bowls and beds still where they were when she died. The Kong is still laying between the couch and table, where she had left it. Her collar now hangs alongside the one that belonged to my German shorthair, Ginger. At least with Ginger, knowing she was old and had cancer gave me time to realize she would soon be gone. Sure it was hard to take her to the vet and have her in my hands as the injection caused her life to leave her. I still shed some tears, but by then I was ready to handle them. That's been the case with almost all of the pups I've owned over many years. Most have lived to old age. That's not the case with Sasha's sudden and unexplained death at less than five years old. While I certainly wouldn't want her to have suffered, I would have been happier if we both had several more years to enjoy each other's company. And if dogs could talk, I bet she would have said the same thing. As I said after Ginger died, I'll likely never get another pup. If I ever decide to make such a mistake, though, it would be quite difficult to find another with Sasha's temperament and personality. The sadness will last a long time, but after a few days, we'll get over the loss somewhat and move on as we have in past situations such as this. Anyway...I really appreciate the sentiments from everyone. Thank you all.

Go to your "My Controls" setting and look for the "Board Settings" under it. There, you can increase the number of topics shown per page. I have mine set at 30 topics and 30 messages.

Just a general comment.... As it is now, NO changes can be made to any of this because Gov. Brewer has extended the moratorium on any proposed rule changes by ANY state agency unless it is something that involves health or safety. This has been in effect for a few years now. So even if G&F wanted to change the way tags are dispensed, its hands are tied until the moratorium is rescinded.

Geez. TJ, you actually eat bait?? We used them to catch flatheads at Bartlett.

Lots of deer there, huh Amanda? I hunted there several times at the annual Buckmaster's Classic. We were at the about Southern Sportsman Lodge, which is between Selma and Mongomery, quite a bit west and north of where you were. The area is known as the "Black Belt." Like you, I hate hunting from stands or even just sitting somewhere. Thus, I did mostly still hunting, even in the thicker stuff. This photo with the late Jim Varney -- Earnest, "you know what I mean Vern" -- is one of the bucks I killed there over the years.

I didn't realize the AGFD was still peddling it. I got my copy from there many years ago.

If you can find a copy at your library, read Man and Wildlife in Arizona -- The American Exploration Period 1824-1865 by Goode P. Davis.

Here's the skinny from one of my contacts at G&F on issueing more permits than the number assigned to a particular hunt. In some cases, during the drawing or even afterward with someone trying to buy a leftover, when the info is punched in, it will show that the person is ineliglible to obtain a permit. Reasons can vary, such as already drawing another tag for a limited hunt, etc. When this happens, even though the permit isn't issued, the number for THAT tag gets "used up," i.e. it is no longer available. So the next tag issued will be the next number. This scenario would be more likely when someone tries to obtain a leftover when they had already drawn a permit for another hunt, and the computer would quickly show that. Obviously, it's also more likely to happen with leftovers. Sooo...in the case of #367 and #368, it means there were at least 18 of these instances.

Ignore the above. Got it covered.

My water line to the house broke right at the meter near the sidewalk. I already have it all dug out. Right now, we have no water. It appears as if it would be a quick and easy repair. Anyone know a plumber who isn't out to rip people off and can repair it this afternoon? I'm in Glendale near 67th Ave. & Camelback.

They provide prices for both club members and nonmembers, so I don't think that is the case. Shotgun Range Fees...................................Members..........................Non-Members 5-Stand / Trap / Wobble Trap per Round.......$20.00............................$30.00 Shotgun Stand (token operated)...................$5.00.............................$7.00 Permanent Activation Card (optional)............$5.00.............................$7.00 .................................................................$15.00...........................$15.00

Has anyone here ever shot a round of trap or sporting clays at Rio Salado? If so, please PM me ASAP. Thanks

And to everyone on CWT.....

Really? Try this: Early 2011 HE class schedule on AGFD web site

My silver Lab, Sasha.

Sasha enjoyed seeing the photos of Lexie all grown up. She said to tell Lexie, "woof."

Reread what I said. Because I quote someone doesn't mean I subscribe to the notion. And that's all I will say on the subject.