There is a story that has made the rounds in science magazines throughout the last few years. Scientists continue to learn that we’ve underestimated animals’ intelligence and consciousness for centuries. We used to be told that some animals didn’t register pain in the way we do, despite the fact that one can hear a dog yelp in agony when a tail gets caught in a car door or a foot is stepped upon.

Regardless, the story can be summarized thusly, scientists watching a herd of elephants, which by definition includes the females, sisters, aunts, nieces, etc. were making their migration through their territory for the season. But midway through the migration, the matriarch took the herd a mile out of the way to a meadow, one in which her sister died (of old age). The bones remained there. The elephants turned the bones over, sadly, spending a few minutes honoring their passed loved one, remembering her.

Scientists noted that there isn’t a single evolutionary advantage to such behavior. It is a clear indication of some kind of consciousness that goes beyond reaction to stimuli. It proves that elephants realize that life is temporary, that it is meaningful, that they miss their lost loved ones and remember where they died. The heard was paying homage and grieving, a very sophisticated behavior.

Elephant meat is not some prized delicacy historically eaten by… anyone really, especially not Wayne LaPierre, former head of the NRA. We accept hunters that hunt as part of game management, do it fairly within the rules, and then eat the meat. They are actually more moral than those of us planning on ordering a cheeseburger today.

But Wayne went to Africa to shot an elephant, not feed a family. He probably went primarily for a picture, and the ability to brag that he did it. How manly, using a rifle that can shoot accurately at 400 yards, probably sitting in a vehicle or a blind in which guides promised that elephants would wander by on their paths. Again, how manly.

What a waste of a dwindling and beautiful cohabitant of this earth. Perhaps that’s why LaPierre tried to hide the fact that he hunted one. From The New Yorker:

The former head of the National Rifle Association and his wife went to great lengths to ship parts of the elephant they killed in Botswana back home—and to keep their names far removed from it.

According to The New Yorker, Wayne LaPierre and his wife, Susan, had elephant feet repurposed for stools, umbrella stands, and a trash can, all while trying to make sure the shipment couldn’t be traced back to them.

A 2013 email from Susan LaPierre to a manager asked that the shipment to be sent to a taxidermist and for the company to “not use our names anywhere if at all possible.” Aside from explicitly violating NRA rules on contractor gifts greater than $250, the two were afraid of a backlash over their hunt.

We are going to be sick. They make stools out of wood and steal, an elephant had to die for this purpose? A TRASH CAN?, and what the hell, and umbrella stand? No wonder they didn’t want their names associated with it, it is pathological, no hyperbole. We all know other uses of skin and the memory of other senseless deaths.

We suppose it shouldn’t be surprising. As much as we feel kinship and wonder for elephants and their rightful place in the world, it still falls woefully short of the love we feel for kids at Parkland, or the victims in Las Vegas, and all the others (too many to count, literally) that had to die for Wayne to get the money to fire a gun into a body, again.

Any man who is willing to take millions in order to ensure easy access to the tools that took the lives of kids, and innocents at a concert, would have no problem putting a bullet in “just” an elephant. We adore and admire the elephants, our kids and family are our greatest treasure. Neither matter to Wayne.

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