According to this news site,
I wonder what the best way to catch one is?
Run 'em down hills. The wee buggers have small forelegs and they tend to tumble when headed downwards.
You wonder out onto the moor (Scotland has moors right? No, that was Spain.) and hold open a burlap sack. Then you make the call of the Wild Haggis (Haaaaaaaaggis, h’gis, h’gis, h’gis!) while your hunting partners form a huge circle around you and flush all the Haggis your way. When the Haggis get close you throw the burlap sack over the fattest one and you have just caught your very own Haggis!
Catch and Release is the only sporting option in a Haggis Hunt. (“I caught a twelve pounder! Then I set it free!” They like to hear this down at the pub after.)
If you can find a haggis it’s fairly easy to catch it, as they’re not that fast, but they are shy and hide well. However they have become more accustomed to people recently, and often follow someone hoping to scavenge some food. Thus the best method for an American hunting hagges is to find a Scottish native and draw any haggis into the open by imitating the haggis mating call: “Why are you such a pansy? Is it because you’re from england?”
You will never want for haggis again.
You know I’d blame the Americans for gross stupidity if I didn’t find links like this from Scotsman.com
I mean, yeah I’ll still think they tend to the gullible but… 
Which turns out to be Floater’s link.
Well, first you have to get a snipe and use it as bait, and then when the haggis comes after the snipe, you sic a drop-bear on it…
My mum used to tell me this when I was a wee bairn!! She said haggises were little furry animals with one leg long longer than the other for rolling up and down the Scottish Highlands. We used to go on holiday in the highlands a lot as well, so we’d be driving along and it would go something like this:
Mum: Ooooh quick, look - there’s one!!!
Me: (flattening my nose against the window in my haste to spot one the elusive creatures) WHERE WHERE WHERE???
Mum: Awww, you just missed it!
This could go on for hours. It was years before I found out the truth - that haggises are actually low-land beasties…
Except a Snipe is a real bird. Something I didn’t know until I looked at a bird book a few months ago. Unless the Smithonian is having a go at me.
How to hunt a haggis.
First fill your hip flask with something appropriate - a few ounces of Glen Hoddle always goes down well on a cold moor.
Then collect your packs of Bandersnatches and decoy snark, and form up.
Lurk. Catch haggis. Shag Haggis (traditional but not compulsory. Cook Haggis. Throw haggis away (have you ever eaten one of the little buggers?) or feed haggis to pet wombles.
Drink more Glen Hoddle.
One thing you gotta remember when hunting haggis… be vewy vewy qwiet!
rowley birkin qc
and veh veh veh drunk
rowley birkin qc
It should be Catch and Release only.
It’s part of the Scottish Grand Slam. Bag one of those puppies, a trophy bagpipe, and a Loch Ness, and you’ve got into the record books. Good luck getting the Loch Ness Monster to the taxidermist’s though.
You must remember NOT to hunt the haggis with dogs, though, as hunting foxes or other wild mammals with dogs is now illegal.
btw - so why is the “snipe hunt” thing a joke? I once saw an episode of “Frasier” in which it was clear, in context, that the whole thing was a joke, but, since, as has been remarked, it is a real bird, Celyn was confused.
Also, contacts in the UK tell me we Americans don’t understand sarcasm.
Could be meaningless coincidence, eh?
For what it’s worth, the online M-W dictionary defines haggis as:
“a traditionally Scottish dish that consists of the heart, liver, and lungs of a sheep or a calf minced with suet, onions, oatmeal, and seasonings boiled in the stomach of the animal”
Maybe I should have left well enough alone.
Worse yet, Antiochus - there are people who insist on giving it long chat-up speech before they eat it.
My mother was born and raised in Scotland. Her parents moved the whole family here (in stages) and she arrived when she was sixteen. My grandparents lived across the street from us. We always went to the local Highland Games. When I was old enough to read, one day after we visited the games I asked my Gram why we didn’t ever have any of the Haggis that was heavily advertised at the games we had just attended.
Gram said “Because we don’t drink.”
Make of that what you will. 