ParadiseRoad
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...earning their keep...
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...Coon Hounds...
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Ivan the Butcher
Member
When I was in 6th grade (1967-68), a classmate of mine got a birthday present of 1/4 ownership of a coon dog puppy. By 8th or 9th grade the dog was a National Champion trial dog and my friend had more cash than anyone else at school including the teachers. Back then people could make a living or a great second job as coon hunters!
Now, pelts are almost worthless, and good coon hounds don't make great lap dogs! Another way of life has passed away.
Ivan
Now, pelts are almost worthless, and good coon hounds don't make great lap dogs! Another way of life has passed away.
Ivan
I remember once, many years ago, when our youth group at church decided to go on a coon hunt. For the most part a coon hunt consists of standing around the trucks, listening to the dogs and finally heading off through the woods, at night to get to the tree.
There was a woman, an older, typical large, and VERY dignified, choir singing, Baptist lady who volunteered to go along. "Mabel (not her real name, although she's long been called to Glory) is going?" If anyone was more surprised to hear that than I, I can't imagine who it was.
She showed up along with a dozen or so of us kids, and a couple of coon hunters who actually knew what they were doing. The tailgate dropped, the dogs hit, and off they went. After standing around listening to the dogs, the hunters announced that the dogs had treed and the entire group was off into the night, flashlights bobbing through the wood, with good ol' Mable right in the middle of it.
Until she tripped, and went face first into the creek. Scared us all to death. We just knew if she wasn't dead, she'd be furious.
Nope. She was not only OK, but she came up with her hair in her eyes, her clothes soaked from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. She was laughing like a maniac.
Up and on her feet again, and she was off, and if I remember correctly she beat us all to the tree.
The hunters rounded up the dogs. The coons looked down as if to say, "That was fun. Let's do it again." We all hiked back to the trucks, which were a lot farther away then they were on the way out.
It made quite a story the next Sunday morning.
There was a woman, an older, typical large, and VERY dignified, choir singing, Baptist lady who volunteered to go along. "Mabel (not her real name, although she's long been called to Glory) is going?" If anyone was more surprised to hear that than I, I can't imagine who it was.
She showed up along with a dozen or so of us kids, and a couple of coon hunters who actually knew what they were doing. The tailgate dropped, the dogs hit, and off they went. After standing around listening to the dogs, the hunters announced that the dogs had treed and the entire group was off into the night, flashlights bobbing through the wood, with good ol' Mable right in the middle of it.
Until she tripped, and went face first into the creek. Scared us all to death. We just knew if she wasn't dead, she'd be furious.
Nope. She was not only OK, but she came up with her hair in her eyes, her clothes soaked from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. She was laughing like a maniac.
Up and on her feet again, and she was off, and if I remember correctly she beat us all to the tree.
The hunters rounded up the dogs. The coons looked down as if to say, "That was fun. Let's do it again." We all hiked back to the trucks, which were a lot farther away then they were on the way out.
It made quite a story the next Sunday morning.
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^^^The coon hunts and (hunters) I am familiar with all involved copious amounts of whiskey. Some store bought, but mostly in a mason jar. There were not any church folk along—or at least active members!
5-Shot
Member
As a young man I used to accompany my mentor on competitive night hunts. Dogs were scored on finding trails, barking “tree” and whether or not there was actually a coon present in the tree. The charm, and Achilles heel, of this system is that hunters must be able to identify their own dogs by voice. As the evening wears on, aided by a bottle of Jim Beam, the debates over ownership could grow quite animated. It was great fun.
Ed
Ed
Have had black & tans and a plott. Great pets. Lost our last one a decouple of years ago. Been checking the shelters and rescue groups for another
My daughter and her husband now have a red bone coon hound. He is about 16 weeks old and at “puppy school” for 2 straight weeks. Then at some point they plan to train him as a hunt dog. He is a beautiful red rust color and loves his grandpa (that would be me!!).
Fishinfool
Member
Used to love coon hunting when I was a kid. Back in the early 70's, a buddy had a couple good coon dogs, and we hit the woods all the time. Roxie was his favorite, and she was always quiet until she had one treed, the she would only let out the occasional bark; but when she did, it was a coon, gaurenteed. Back then prime coon pelts brought good money, and I became a pretty serious coon & red fox trapper. That's how I started paying for my gun collection...
I got a pup from Roxie, with the intent of making him a coon hunter. He didn't like being in the woods, and always ran back to the car when someone fired a shot. He ended up becoming my moms favorite dog. "Droopy" was a black & tan.
One time, we stopped at an all night dinner for cheeseburgers, and left two dogs in the car - my 1965 GTO. They tore the headliner out as precisely as if you had removed it with a razor blade. Kind of impressive.
Another time, I had borrowed my moms Ford LTD. Five of us were hunting that night. The dogs had rolled in something pretty foul, so in the trunk they went for the short ride home. Both got car sick, and sprayed diarrhea everywhere. Last time I got to borrow moms car for a long time....
Those were fun times.
Larry
I got a pup from Roxie, with the intent of making him a coon hunter. He didn't like being in the woods, and always ran back to the car when someone fired a shot. He ended up becoming my moms favorite dog. "Droopy" was a black & tan.
One time, we stopped at an all night dinner for cheeseburgers, and left two dogs in the car - my 1965 GTO. They tore the headliner out as precisely as if you had removed it with a razor blade. Kind of impressive.
Another time, I had borrowed my moms Ford LTD. Five of us were hunting that night. The dogs had rolled in something pretty foul, so in the trunk they went for the short ride home. Both got car sick, and sprayed diarrhea everywhere. Last time I got to borrow moms car for a long time....
Those were fun times.
Larry
SC_Mike
Member
Nasty little beasts, game bird egg eaters and corn thieves.
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SC_Mike
Member
Are you talking about the coons or the coon hunters??
Well, now that you mention it...
misswired
Absent Comrade
There's a young man brings his black&tan to the dog park. He on the inside and the Mountain Feist on the outside starts a barking fest. That's a sweet sound hearing that hound bawl'....me and the Feist both enjoy it
shouldazagged
Absent Comrade
I heard a story of a coon hunt in which the 'shine was flowing freely around the fire, and one old boy with a peg leg went to sleep with the end of the peg in the fire. After a while the hounds barked treed, and everybody took off toward them. They heard the old guy crashing and stumbling along behind them and yelling, "Watch your footin', boys, every other step's a sinkhole!"
Probably apocryphal.
Probably apocryphal.
Back in the 70' s I had a Black & Tan, we didnt sit around and wait for the hounds to tree the coon, we would follow them to tree, shoot the coon out of the tree and let the hounds finish them off.
Sent from my LGL52VL using Tapatalk
Sent from my LGL52VL using Tapatalk
You should have gotten 20 likes for this... Frikken hilarious!
some of my best times as a kid were when I was allowed to go coon hunting in the Mississippi River Bottoms, AKA the Sny. I would sit by the fire, and listen to the stories, and listen to the dogs when they were on a coon, and then stumbling along behind the grownups when the dogs bayed treed. At the end of the night, it was piss on the fire, and call in the dogs. wonderful memories from 60 years ago.
