Cecil, we hardly knew you.
But here’s what we do know: We know the name of Walter Palmer, an American dentist, who was identified as the individual who killed beloved Cecil the lion earlier this month.
We know 13-year-old Cecil, a drawcard at Hwange National Park in western Zimbabwe, was lured out of the grounds with the scent of food (reportedly a dead animal tied to a vehicle) into unprotected territory.
We know Palmer first shot Cecil with a crossbow, tracked him for approximately 40 hours then finished him off with a gun.
We know Cecil was beheaded, skinned and left to rot.
We also know that Palmer paid more than $50,000 to act out his fantasy and was aided and abetted by two Zimbabweans (Theo Bronchorst, a professional hunter, and Trymore Ndlovu, a farm owner) and that they attempted to destroy the GPS collar Cecil wore as part of the University of Oxford’s research program studying the decline in Africa’s lion population.
Animal rights activists were always going to be the first to condemn Palmer. They only have one temperature anyway: centre-of-the-sun hot (they wouldn’t be as fanatical about animal welfare if their passion was stone cold). But something about the murder of Cecil the lion has struck a chord with the public. The firestorm it ignited has been unprecedented with celebrities leading the chorus baying for Palmer’s blood.
We all acknowledge that Walter Palmer is Douchebag of the Week. But the intensity of the social media backlash hints there is something about this case of animal cruelty that transcends another Japanese trawler hunting whales or another season of baby seal clubbing.