Dog Gone Hunt

Dog Gone Hunt by Gary Benton
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We were all sitting on the front porch of my bother Larry’s home one evening talking about rabbit dogs. Now, those of us who live in the border states of the South have a great addiction to hunting rabbits and it rates right up there with a honeymoon, or at least the excitement does. And, unlike a marriage, the excitement of a rabbit hunt never declines.

I guess one of the reasons hunting rabbits is so popular is the cost of the sport is low, the action is fast, and rabbits make great eating. About all a person needs to hunt a rabbit is a shotgun and maybe a beagle, though I’ve known a few folks that use a twenty-two-caliber rifle and no dog at all. Me, I’ve done both, but I prefer a good rabbit dog and a twelve-gage shotgun with small shot in the load. At any rate, Larry was considering a new rabbit dog since his old one was about a thousand years old in dog years and on her last legs.

“I’m tellin’ ya, this dawg can run circles around Lady and y’all know she’s the best rabbit dog in the state.” Larry bragged about his old beagle as he picked up his cup of coffee and raised it to take a sip.

Now, Larry’s coffee could float a horseshoe, so you have a pretty good idea what my boy’s stomach lining is like. But, he always masked the taste with lots of cream (never milk) and about a half of a pound of sugar.

“Larry, Lady is good, but she don’t compare to Butch. Uncle Ben interrupted quickly as he pulled out his old briar pipe and started stuffing the bowl with his tobacco. Now, that Butch is a real winner when it comes to huntin’ rabbits and you know it too.” Butch belonged, as you might guess, to Uncle Ben.

“Butch is good, but Lady has a better nose. ‘Sides, this new dog is better than both our old dogs combined.” Larry said as he leaned back in his rocking chair and pushed his hat back to the rear of his head.

Suddenly, I got the idea to make our next rabbit hunt a real test for the dogs, so I said, “Look, Larry, why don’t you bring your new dog and Lady and Uncle Ben can bring Butch next weekend, so we can see which the best is?”

The following Saturday morning dawned cold with the threat of snow in the air as we got out of our trucks and made our way to where Larry was standing by his tailgate. In the back of his truck was a small beagle, I’d say less than a year old, and while it looked intelligent, there was something about it I didn’t like.

“What’s his name?” Bubba asked as he reached over the side of the truck and ran his hand slowly down the dogs back.

“He ain’t got one yet.” Larry replied as he zipped his coat up against a light but cold wind.

“Wait a minute, I thought this was one of them pet-ee-grees? If he’s got papers, then he’s got a name.” Ben spoke as he poured the remainder of his luke warm coffee from his thermos cup into the dirt by his feet.

“I didn’t say he was registered nor had any papers.” Larry replied and grinned.

“How much did you pay for this pup?” Leroy asked as he neared the tailgate and looked at the short and young dog in the back.

“Only a hundred dollars and he’s worth every cent too! I saw him run the other day when I bought ‘em.” Larry replied and I noticed he’d suddenly turned defensive over the whole conversation.

“Larry, did you get this dog from old man Cisco?” I asked, because while Cisco had some good dogs, at times he’d make a little less profit on a bad dog. And, I knew he had a fresh litter of beagles from the local newspaper ads. And, good rabbit dogs were going for more than a hundred dollars at the time.

“Nope, I got it from his son.” Larry grinned and looked at me like he’d just won the sweepstakes.

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