Hail Bishop Valentine

Hail Bishop Valentine, whose day this is,
All the air is thy diocese,
And all the chirping choristers
And other birds are thy parishioners,
Thou marriest each year
The lyric lark and the grave whispering dove,
The sparrow that neglects his life for love,
The household bird with the red stomacher,
Thou mak'st the black bird speed as soon
As doth the goldfinch or the halcyon;
The husband cock looks out and straight is sped
And meets his wife, which brings her feather bed.
This day more cheerfully than ever shine,
This day which might enflame thyself, old Valentine.

John Donne.

Hunting?

Correct me if I'm wrong but

the birds that Dick Cheyney and his elderly playmates were wasting at the time of the unfortunate accident were

flightless
tame
And herded in front of the guns

and Dick and his elderly playmates were blasting them from a distance of about 3 yards.

What sort of a sick fuck would want to be doing something like that?

If this makes Dick a hunter then the guy with the bolt gun down the abattoire is Buffalo Bill.