I've lived near the Santa Monica Mountains, and in their canyons during most of my years in L.A. The sprawl of this odd city just crept into and through this east-west range and out onto the flats on the other side, then up the next range.
These roads are old and narrow, and the rough chaparral clings determinedly to the rocky hillsides. Down in the gullies, crossing the freeways, ranging across the plateaus, the wildlife, equally determined, lives on.
Actually, though, we are among them, they are not around us. We just don't understand that.
The mountain lions are mighty predators, and range far and wide to survive. Yesterday the owner of a dozen llamas which were attacked and eaten, stated in the L.A. Times,
"...the reality is no one will bother to apply for permits anymore. Shoot, shovel, and shut up, that's what's coming." He was complaining because a marauding puma will no longer automatically justify a kill permit.
Non-lethal means must be employed first. Mr. Phillips alpacas were not properly fenced to protect them. Volunteers from the Mountain Lion Foundation build them pens to shelter them from future predation.
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