# A Hunting Story



## Cliff. (Dec 24, 2021)

*Coon Hunting
By Tim Brown*
It was mid winter, my usually routine was to come home from work, get something to eat, take a nap then watch the local news. Then around eight o'clock I would get ready to go out for an evening of hunting coon. This particular night it got extremely cold very fast, up to that point it had been a mild winter. I looked at the thermometer and it was sitting on 5 above zero. I probably would have stayed home if there was something interesting on TV but even back then most shows weren't worth watching.
I'm not one to sit around and do nothing, reading makes me sleepy so I told my wife I was going to take my old hound Buck and go hunting. She looked at me and said you got to be crazy....LOL.....she said that a lot to me over the years. Some people wonder what the C in my middle name stands for, I guess its stands for crazy cause my wife calls me that a lot. Anyway she never argues too much with me because she knew when I made up my mind to go hunting there was no chance of changing it. 

I didn't know how long I would stay out that night so I decided to take Buck, he was a semi silent trailer that could put a coon up pretty fast and he hunted close to me and checked in often. Old Buck was one of my all time favorite hounds, I got him on a trade and $25. I was visiting my grandfather one day and he was telling me about a young dog his friend had, he thought it would make a good hunting dog. I told him I was interested in seeing it so he said lets go I'll take you over there to see him. On the way there he was telling me about the dog’s owner Hayden Miller, he said he was an older fellow that wasn't in very good shape, I think he said he had something wrong with his lungs so he couldn't hunt anymore. 

Now Hayden lives back in the hills so it took some time to get back to his place. We pulled up to the house and went in and knocked on the door. Mrs. Miller opened the door and I ask if her husband was home. She said sure, so we went in and grandpap introduced me to Hayden. We sit there for awhile talking about dogs and telling hunting stories. It would have been rude to just come out and ask him if he was selling his dog. That's not how thing were done back then, the conversation kinda had to lead into the subject. After awhile he told me he was having a hard time getting around and wasn't hunting dogs anymore. That gave me an opportunity to ask him what he was going to do with his dog and he said he didn't know. After we talked some more it was time to go, I told him if he ever thought about selling his dog to let me know because I was looking for a nice young dog to train on coon. He said he didn't want to sell his dogs because he liked having a dog around the house that barked when someone came. It was funny because when we got there his dogs wasn't barking and was no where to be seen. I think he just wanted me to think the dog had some value because the dog was only six month old and wasn't hunting yet. Hayden knew when we got there that we wanted to buy the dog because he told my grandpap he wanted to sell him....That's was just part of dog trading, you have a dog you want to sell but leave on its to valuable to get rid of, then the dickering begins. I mentioned to him I had a big Walker I would trade, I said he barked good but he wasn't a very good hunter. He said he didn't care, he just needed a dog around that barked when people came to the house. So we settled on my dog and $25, the deal was done and I didn't even see the dog, I was just going on what my grandpap told me. 

Hayden could hardly walk so I didn't mind that he didn't take me out back to see the dog before we made our deal, besides I trusted what my grandpap told me, he was a hounds men all his life. Hayden told his wife to take me out back of the house and get the dog, grandpap stayed with Hayden so he could talk some more. 

When we got out back to the dog box the only thing I could see was two little shinny black demon eyes looking out of the dark box at me and I could hear him growling. Mrs. Miller told me not to get to close because he might bite, Hayden didn't say anything about him biting when we was talking price, if he did I might have only offered him $15. She told me to stand back until she got him out of his box. She said she was the only one that could handle him, Hayden didn't say anything about that either. So I let her reach in and snapped my leash on him, he even growled at her when she pulled him out of the box. She said he was a little strange and wasn't used to being around strangers. I could see that right away...LOL...He was a very pretty Blue Tic, he might of had some Plott bred in also. At that point I didn't really want him but I had to take the dog. Back then once something was settled on you had to uphold your end of the deal no matter what. Anyway it was to late to renegotiate I already gave him the money so the deal was done and I couldn't go back on my word and not take the dog. Didn't matter if I came out on the short end of the stick. Caveat Emptor, a deal was a deal and besides, no one like to admit they got took, especially me. 

Anyway that's how I came to get Buck, when I got him home I told my wife to stay away from him, I didn't want her to get bit. I went out to feed him that night and he came out of the box and tried to bit my hand so I thought. I thought to myself boy you got took on this dog, what in the world did I even bring a dog like this home for, I didn't even know if he would hunt and I just wasted $25. He stayed in his box most of the time and would growl if I got to close, so I just put his feed and water down hoping he would come around. A few evenings later I was feeding him and the other dogs; I wanted to see if he would try to bit me again. I turned my back on him and started to walk away. I could hear his chain dragging as he came at me but I didn't let on I was watching him, then he had me by the hand. I didn't try to pull away because he wasn't biting down hard, just enough to hold me there. I started talking to him and ask him what he was doing. He started to wag his tail a little so I petted him on the head and he let my hand go. I turned to walk away and he grabbed my hand again, I petted him again and he let me go.
Then I realized what he wanted, he wasn't trying to hurt me but he wanted me to stay and pet him, so I did. I gave him a good talking to and gave him a good petting and from that day forward he became my dog. This went on every time I went out to see him.
I didn't tell my wife what he was doing because I never liked anyone fooling around with my hunting dogs. One day she decided she was going to go out and make friends with the new dog, even though I told her to stay away from him. So you know how good she listens to me. 

I was in the house when I heard her yell for help, I looked out and Buck had her whole hand in his mouth. I told her to stand still until I got there....I thought this would be a good time to play a trick on her. When I got there my wife didn't know what to do. I left on she was in dyer peril and could lose her hand if he bit down. I thought maybe I would just let Buck hold her hand for awhile maybe she would learn a good lesson, I knew he wouldn't let lose until she petted him on the head.
I left on I couldn't think of a way to get her hand out of his mouth unless I would shoot him. Finally I told her to reach down real slow with the other hand and pet him on the head, right away he let go. I started to laugh and she knew I was having fun with her. She didn't get to mad about it and really thought he was kinda of cute for doing that. I got a good laugh out of it anyway. After that Buck was "our" dog, somehow I lost half a dog to my wife.

I trained old Buck to be a good coon hound, I really thought a lot of that dog, he acted a lot like the Decker's. He liked to stay with me around the house and love to fight with me. When he wanted to play I would put on a heavy coat because he could get pretty rough....I didn't take it to easy on him either. He would come running at me then jump up and grab my arm then give it a good shaking. Then I would grab him by the head or neck and wrestle him to the ground, great fun for him and me.

Now where was I, oh yeah, I going going hunting and it was 5 above zero. I turned Buck loose and he done one or two laps around the house bawling from excitement as he always did. My wife always like to come out on the porch and listen to him, he sounded just like he was running a coon in the yard. After he got that out of his system I put him in the cab with me, it was so cold that even with the heater on it was still freezing ice on the inside of the windshield, so it was a pretty chilly ride until the engine heated up a little after five miles. 

I knew a good spot down along the river, I always got a good chase there. I pulled into where I usually parked and turned Buck out and off he went. We were hunting pretty fast because it was so cold, it was hard standing in one spot very long because I never wore a heavy coat when I was coon hunting, you can get pretty hot running after a hound. I guess we only went a about a mile or so and Buck hit a hot track. Within a couple hundred yards he had it treed and that big Blue Tic voice echoed up and down the river bottom telling me to hurry up he had a coon treed, always made the hair stand up on the back of my neck when he opened up on a coon like that. The river water was not at the point of freezing so it looked like smoke coming off the water because of the cold air hitting the warmer water.

I caught up to Buck and he was locked down barking tree, I knew before I got there that he had treed one. He had a great change over bawl and he only used it when he was sure he had one up the right tree. I shined the light up in the tree but didn't see any coon, then I shined the lower limbs and there sit a big ole coon on a limb right over the water. Me and Buck were standing on a ten foot bank and the river kind of cut in at that spot. I thought if I shot the coon the currant would bring him into the bank. I put a shell in my little bolt action 22 and Buck stopped barking like he always did. He knew what was coming next when I locked that shell in my gun, so he just sat down and looked up at that coon in the tree. I shot and down came the coon just as I planned, what I didn't plan on was Buck jumping off the bank into the water to get the coon. I knew when I heard that big splash he was in trouble. One thing a coon hunters fears is a dog in the water with a live coon. Sure enough when Buck got to the coon he wasn't dead, I had just nicked him and he had plenty of fight left. Buck grabbed the coon but the coon was able to get up on top of Bucks head and down under the water they went. The only thing I could see were air bubbles coming up, I knew I had to do something quick. I throw down my gun and ripped off my coat, I was going in after Buck. That coon wasn't going to drown my dog, no way, even if I had to freeze my butt off trying to save him. I had no idea how deep the water was and it didn't matter, that was my pal that was in trouble. 

I was just about to jump in the water when up came Buck blowing water out of his nose with that coon in his jaws, I don't know how he got that coon off his head under the water but he did. He swam to the bank with that coon in his mouth, when he got to the bank he tore that coon a new one....LOL...he sure was mad. 

I had to get my coat back on because I was freezing and I didn't even get wet, my fingers were so cold I could hardly button my coat. I got the coon away from Buck then put him on the leash. It was so cold his hair started freezing, it looked like he was on fire with all the stream coming off him. I took off running as fast as I could for the truck. After a mile of flat out running plus carrying that wet coon and leading Buck I was pretty well played out but warm. I throw the coon in the back of the truck then me and Buck got into the cab, I turned the heater on high. We weren't gone that long so the engine was still warm, that heat felt pretty good, by the time we got home Buck was dry, didn't think to much of him shaking water all over me but he was alright.

Whenever I came home from a hunt my wife would always ask me if I had fun. I always would say of course I had fun, I wouldn't have gone if I wasn't going to have fun. I didn't bother her with the details, she would just have said I was crazy anyway...LOL... I didn't skin the coon that night but I wish I had, by the time I got to him the next day he was as hard as a cement block.

One year later I was hunting Buck along the river again, it was warm that night and so was the water, it was early Fall and the leaves were still on. Buck treed a nice big coon and it was over the water again, I had a real good shot at it this time so I thought, why not. Ole Buck will retrieve it for me.....wrong.....I shot and the coon was dead before it hit the water. Buck just sat there looking at the coon float down the river,.... LOL....I had to follow it for almost a half mile before it got close enough for me to fish it in with a long stick. Buck never went in the water again after a coon, can't say that I blamed the old boy. Tim

Reactions: Like 3 | Way Cool 1


----------



## 2feathers Creative Making (Dec 25, 2021)

Puts me in mind of my dad's area. All his folks and I laws had hounds. Only person touched em was the man who hunted them. And a good dog could start a whopper of a scuffle. Just tell the owner, yours was better, and it was on.


----------



## Woodhaul (Dec 25, 2021)

Coons are tough animals! Always amazed how they know to get the hound in deep water. Great story.


----------



## woodtickgreg (Dec 25, 2021)

Reminds me of a dog I had. She was bluetick and springer spaniel mix. I named her pepper. She was a gift from my mother for my birthday. Best rabbit dog I ever had, a natural born rabbit hunting dog, she loved it. I had her for many years, when she died after a couple of strokes I never went rabbit hunting again, just wasn't the same without my pepper dog.

Reactions: Sincere 5


----------

