THE Isle of Skye, home of my forebears, must be the nearest place to paradise on earth in the month of May.

Of all the lovely places on this beautiful island, my favourite has to be Hinnisdal Forest which runs up into the delightful Glen Hinnisdal. The forest is carpeted then with primroses, purple violets, wood anemones, and celandine, and is bordered by the lovely River Hinnisdal, with its deep rock pools and waterfalls.

So as we strolled there three weeks ago, my friend and I fairly thought ourselves in heaven. Until, that is, we found the young dog otter, strangled in a steel snare which had been set beneath the fence separating the forest from the river.

His beautiful dark brown fur was still shining, but he had struggled so desperately that he had impaled his body on the end-wire of the snare.

He must have died a slow and agonising death. Is not the otter a protected species of wild animal in this country?

So when are these disgusting devices going to be made illegal?

Lorna Ferguson Kirk, Helensburgh.

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