Inaction on ending trophy hunting is a stain on this nation

THIS year marks the 10th anniversary of the disgusting killing of Cecil the lion at the hands of a smug American trophy-hunting dentist.

- Chris Tarrant

There was an outcry at the time, but obviously for Cecil it was all too late, although happily the dentist lost many or even most of his customers.

I was sickened but not hugely surprised. In the land of Trump and the National Rifle Club, billionaires often own their own huge personal arsenals, with whole armouries of guns, grenades, bazookas even tanks, and can and do shoot anything that is foolish enough to move or fly anywhere near them.

"But we're British," I thought, proudly and patriotically, "and very different, and surely trophy hunting isn't even allowed over here."

But since Cecil's death, well over 100 lions have been killed by trophy hunters not grinning Texans or New Yorkers, but sick British hunters from our own fair shores.

These are not poachers. They are very wealthy so-called sportsmen who pay a fortune to kill what are often endangered animals and bring them home as souvenirs as a proud centrepiece for their lounges and marbled hallways.

If I was ever invited to anyone's house with a huge dead polar bear to greet me, I'd turn sharply on my heel and hopefully never see the owner again, unless they were stuffed.