A Failure to Communicate

That's how I might describe an article printed in the East Valley Tribune's Saturday newspaper. At the bottom of the local section we see a picture of a young man being handed a shotgun shell in preparation for dove-hunting. The accompanying article is entitled "Hunting, Suburbia Clash in E.V." The reporter then sets the stage in what might sound like hunting terminology to someone who doesn't hunt:

Like an indigenous critter being rousted out of its natural habitat, longtime small-game hunters are losing their favorite stalking grounds in the East Valley as development encroaches upon hunting hot spots.

The clash of sportsmanship and suburbia also has created a problem for residents who dislike the sound of gunfire or the presence of shotgun-wielding strangers near their homes.

Gilbert resident Jim Jenkins, an Arizona native who grew up hunting, said he can't count the number of times he's been forced to find a new spot because development was closing in on the old one.

All well and good. This illustrates a truth that increased growth corresponds with decreased hunting opportunities. Now comes the failure to communicate:

The Jenkinses were two of about two dozen hunters who spent the 15-day season's opening morning at the Arizona Dairy Company, a large dairy farm southeast of Sossaman and Elliot roads where cows stretch as far as the eye can see.

Dairies are popular locales for dove hunting because birds flock there to pilfer grain and seeds meant for feeding the cows, said Marty Fabritz, a field supervisor with the Arizona Game and Fish Department. Many dairy owners welcome hunters who've come to dispatch the grain thieves.

It's that last sentence that makes me ask the question: WHICH dairy owners might the reporter be talking about? Arizona Dairy Company owners? Here's another assumption about Arizona Dairy that the reporter makes based on a comment by the Game and Fish guy:

Unfortunately for Arizona Dairy - and the people who hunt there - development will come too close within the next two years for hunting to continue, Fabritz said.

All of us in the office had a pretty good laugh at this article; that is, all except The Water Expert and our farm foreman, because they spent a good part of their Saturday morning running hunters off the dairy, since the reporter had so helpfully included the cross streets in the article.
The truth is, Arizona Dairy belongs to our family. And there are indeed lots of doves that flock there for the grain. But, at least at our dairy, we do not welcome hunters to get rid of the birds and save our grain. "Like spitting in the ocean, for all the good it would do," was the comment I heard. But we were amazed that the reporter did not contact The Water Expert, nor the farm foreman, nor the dairy manager to ask how we really feel about strangers hunting on dairy property. Apart from the liability issues, there is the business of running the dairy. And this article, like a bright neon sign, brought ten times the normal number of hunters. This seems like an enormous failure to communicate.

This is not to say you won't see hunting at Arizona Dairy, because you will. But the folks that are allowed there are family and some close friends from over the years - all invited guests, as it were.

The rest of the article talks about various city regulations, from Mesa's complete prohibition to Gilbert's boundaries near structures and developed areas. A small-game biologist with the Game and Fish Dept. is quoted as saying, "It would behoove a hunter to check with the local cities," in deciding where to hunt.

It also would behoove them to check with the dairy owners and managers.