Whenever I watch the hunting dogs, I cannot help but wonder what they are thinking. Using my imagination, I would like to tell this story of one of our deer hunts from the point of view of our hunting dogs Hank, Cheyenne, Nikki, and Pork Chop . . .
A cold nippy breeze swept across the dog pen and into the cozy doghouse. It was hard to tell Nikkiâs slim, trim, and
mostly white body from Cheyenneâs chunky brown and white coat as they snuggled
to stay warm wadded together in a corner.
It would not be long before the sun would begin to peek over the horizon
between the long-leaf pines and lighten the North Florida sky. As if on cue, Nikki and Cheyenne woke as the
darkness began to fade, but twinkling stars could still be seen in the sky.
âWatch it, baby girl,â said Cheyenne. âI think it might be time for those nails to have a manicure.â
âSorry, Cheyenne.â Nikki jerked back her legs from a long
drawn-out stretch as her toenails scratched across Cheyenneâs stomach. She leaped to her feet then pointed her nose
up into the air.
âDo you smell that,
Cheyenne,â asked Nikki? She pranced around the pen sniffing the air.
By this time, Cheyenne
had made her way to the dog feeder. âSmell
what?â She asked. While waiting for an
answer, she chased a morsel of dog food pellets that tumbled out of the dog
feeder as she ate. âThought you could
get away, didnât you?â she said as she lapped up the crumbs that had fallen to
the ground.
âThe air,â said
Nikki. âDonât you smell the deer in the
air?â She announced with a bark that
stirred the males in the next pen.
Hank jumped atop the roof of his dog house and with a deep howl signified his alpha-male status, which he did daily to reaffirm his claim. He was of the pure bred Walker Hound stock that came from a long line of the Old Manâs fatherâs deer hunting dogs and proud of it.
One last dog made up the
Old Manâs pack of hunting dogs. Pork
Chop was his name. He was working on his
first year of real hunting. Pork Chop
ran up and down the fence line. His
barking and howling rang through the crispy morning air.
"That young whipper-snapper donât even know what heâs so excited about,â laughed Cheyenne. âHeâs just revved up and ready to go, and it donât really matter where to.â
âI know that excitement,â said Nikki. âIt wonât be long before the Old Man comes to get us. I can hardly wait. Come on, come on,â she barked, âLetâs get going.â Nikki had two good years of hunting under her belt. She could trail a deer scent along with the best of them. And even with her smaller-built frame could out run some of them. She wasnât ashamed to be a pack dog either if another dog trailed the scent first. She would run right along with him to the end.
âHold on now, Nikki,â said Cheyenne. âYou better eat something before we go so you can keep your strength up. I donât know how so much energy can be wrapped up in such a little package.â
âAlways looking out for me, arenât you, Cheyenne?â said Nikki. They were as close as sisters. You could be sure if you saw Cheyenne that Nikki was close by and vice versa.
âI know that you would do the same for me,â said Cheyenne.
The Old Man appeared on the camp house porch and flipped on the light to the dog pens. He would soon bring the pickup truck to load the dogs into the dog box.
âYou better settle down there, young feller,â said Hank to Pork Chop. âMaybe get yourself a bite to eat. And try to take care of that other morning business before you get into the dog box this time. I donât wanna be riding around in your porta-potty today.â
âOkay, okay, okay,â said Pork Chop. âYou need to chill out a little bit, big guy, and take life easy. Thereâs a whole world out there, and I just wanna see all there is to see and be wild and free.â
âThat wild and free business is gonna get you in trouble one day,â cautioned Hank. âYou gotta pay attention to whatâs going on around you. This deer hunting is serious stuff.â
âI hear ya,â said Pork Chop. He ate from the dog feeder, then took care of that other morning business to Hankâs great relief.
Hank walked up to the fence shaking his head with a sigh. âWhat are we gonna do with that boy?â Hank asked Cheyenne. âHe only partly listens. When we get to the woods, he turns into an air-head going every which way.â
âHeâs still got some growing up to do and, hopefully, that will include some maturity and wisdom as well,â said Cheyenne. âBy the way, Hank, that was a pretty good race you led yesterday. I must admit that I was a little bit winded by the time we hit the road. And I was more than pleased to see the Old Manâs pickup truck. I was ready to ride.â
âThank you, girl. Iâm glad Pork Chop stayed with us this time. Sometimes, though, he just canât concentrate on the matter at hand and keeps getting sidetracked.â
The Old Man cranked the engine of his pickup and slowly backed to the side-by-side gates of the dog pens. As the excitement of the coming hunt grew, the dogs threw all courtesy aside and rushed to their gates barking wildly trampling each other in order to be the first in the box. None wanted to be left behind.
âHey, boys and girls. Yaâll ready to go huntinâ?â asked the Old Man. The whole pack barked even louder. He reached inside the gate and grabbed a hold of Nikkiâs collar. She was always first to the gate and didnât seem to mind stepping over Cheyenne to get there.
âHold on, crazy girl,â said the Old Man. âYou know I wonât leave you behind.â
Nikki jumped effortlessly up onto the tailgate then into the familiar dog box. Many years before he had passed away, the Old Manâs father had hand-crafted the sturdy wooden box which had served its purpose well. Many a fine deer hunting dog had walked through those doors. Nikki was counted among them.
Cheyenneâs entry into the box was a little less graceful. She made a couple of clumsy attempts to jump up on her on. âYouâve been hittinâ the vittles pretty hard, havenât you ole girl?â said the Old Man as he picked her up and sat her on the tailgate.
âHurry up, Cheyenne, weâve gotta get this show on the road,â encouraged Nikki, as she trembled with excitement.
âI am ready to roll,â said Cheyenne. Her wagging tail tapped a steady beat against the wooden wall of the dog box.
Pork Chop rushed to the gate ahead of Hank, but was met with a quick rebuke. âThat ainât how it works around here, boy,â said Hank. He pushed ahead of Pork Chop as the Old Man grabbed his collar. With strong long legs, Hank leaped aboard with one powerful jump. Finally, Pork Chop was last to load with unabated eagerness.
Their excited barks faded into silence as they rode down the bumpy two-rut lane from the campsite into the hunting grounds.
âI canât wait to run,â announced Pork Chop. âThereâs deer, and rabbits, coons, and foxes to be chased. I can run âem all. Just let me at âem.â
âFocus on the deer,â said Hank. âWe need to stay together and find a buck. The Old Man needs the meat to feed his family and as a bonus, heâll give us a treat.â
Due to the recent rains, water had overflowed the banks of the scattered ponds, creeks, and ditches throughout the woods. The pickup truck sloshed through the muddy roads that wound their way through long leaf pines that were planted years ago by the St. Joe Paper Company. A low howling wind blew through the crisp, cold air. The pickup crept along slowly as the Old Man searched for fresh deer tracks, stopping occasionally to get out for a closer look.
âLetâs go, letâs go,â said Pork Chop. âThe scent of everything is itchinâ my nostrils. We need to go hunt.â
âWe need to stick to the plan,â said Hank with the wisdom gained from past experience. âFirst the Old Man finds us a track. The Old Man will put either me or Cheyenne out to trail it. When whoever gets put out gets a good scent on the trail, you wait for the signal. It will be a loud and consistent bark. Then everybody follows, and we jump the buck that will run out of the woods so the Old Man can shoot him.â
âThatâs tried and true,â said Cheyenne. âIt works almost every time.â
The radio cracked with broken conversations among the deer hunters as to where to put the dogs out.
âPork Chop, you are in need of more feet-on-the ground training,â said Hank. âJust stay with the pack and youâll do well. This is no time to get side tracked by all the different smells. Just focus on the buck scent. They really stink this time of year.â
âRoger on that,â replied Pork Chop. âIâm ready. I know Iâm ready.â
âGood. It sounds like we got our plan,â said Hank.
The pickup stopped and the Old Man walked around and lowered the tailgate.
âLooks like this is the best buck track today. Letâs give it a go,â said the Old Man. He reached into the dog box and got his hands on Hankâs collar. âLetâs see what you can do, ole feller,â he said.
Hank leaped from the box and immediately had his nose to the ground and sniffed with all his might to get the deer scent that he knew was somewhere nearby. Soon, he dashed off into the palmettos and scrub brush. About ten yards off, he gave the signal and barked loud and consistently.
âThis is it!â barked Hank. âCome on! Letâs get going!â
The Old Man released the latch on the dog box and out leaped Nikki, Pork Chop, and Cheyenne. They dashed into the woods together like one big wad with a mission.
âKeep up! Keep up!â barked Hank.
âStay with it!â shouted Nikki. Weâve got your back.
The unified wad of dogs quickly began to disintegrate, though, as Pork Chop picked up on the first scent to hit his nostrils. Unfortunately, it wasnât the deer in question.
âPork Chop!â warned Cheyenne. âGet back over here! Stay with the pack!â
âLet him go,â shouted Hank. âWe gotta run this deer."
Hank and the girls did
run that deer. With loud barks, squeals,
and whines, they were boiling. They ran down
over the liquor still ridge, through the creek, and out to the next two-rut
forest road where the Old Man instinctively knew where to wait.
Bam! Bam! The buck was down.
Quickly, from the
palmettos and on the back side of the buck, dashed Hank, Nikki, and
Cheyenne. They still barked loudly. Their bodies were wet from the creek water as
they emerged proudly knowing that they had accomplished their task.
The Old Man caught them up
quickly and put them back in the dog box.
âGood job, girls,â said
Hank, giving credit where credit was due.
âWe worked together as a pack and finished the race.â
âThat was extremely
great!â exclaimed Nikki. âThe crisp air was
blowing across my face and the sweet aroma of deer filled my nostrils. I was charged up â on fire!â
âWe did have a good
run. But where is Pork Chop?â asked
Cheyenne. âHe was right behind us for a
while.â
âLord only knows,â said
Hank. âThe Old Man will more than likely
find him on the other side of the woods where he put out. At least the young feller has learned to go
back where he was put out if he canât make the run.â
While the Old Man field
dressed the buck, Hank, Nikki, and Cheyenne took a well-deserved drink and waited
for their treat before they napped, braced from the cold wind, inside the hay-lined
wooden dog box.
The
Old Man drove down first one dirt road and then another. The dogs had grown accustomed to the bumpy
roads laced with pot holes and wallowed out ruts caused by the deer huntersâ
pickup trucks rolling through the rain.
The Ole Man stopped occasionally to beep Pork Chopâs tracking
collar. He zeroed in closer and closer.
âPork
Chop! Come here, boy!â shouted the Old Man
until Pork Chop, finally, emerged from the bushes. âLetâs get loaded up.â
Pork
Chop jumped onto the tailgate and into the dog box.
The
sun was setting behind the dense woods as they rolled into the campsite and got
unloaded. After filling their bellies,
they rested for the night, being wakened occasionally by the lonely cries of
nearby coyotes.
âWe
hear you coyote man,â howled Hank. âJust
to let you know, this is our territory.â
The Old Man loaded the
dogs early the next day while the moon still hung above and stars barely peeked
through the sky. They bumped along the
familiar roads in the woods.
âHunting season just
donât last long enough,â said Hank.
âThereâs hardly enough time to train a new dog.â
âIf youâre referring to
me,â said Pork Chop, âI think Iâm pretty well trained. I can run anything out there.â
âThatâs just the
problem,â laughed Hank. âWe donât need
to be running just any ole thing.â Hank
became serious, âWeâre deer dogs. We
have a job to do and the Old Man is counting on us. And not only that, these woods can be
dangerous if you get separated from the pack.â
âI can handle myself,â
boasted Pork Chop. âJust because Iâm
young, donât mean I canât do it.â
âLetâs just hope you
donât have to find out,â said Hank.
âThereâs a lot of hungry coyotes and gators in these swamps. And if you get lost, the woods get pretty
dark and cold at night.â
The Old Man followed his
usual hunting pattern and before long the dogs were put on another deer track in
the woods barking, howling, and squealing after what, hopefully, was a big ole
buck. This was a short run and soon the
deer crossed between the hunters. There
was no bam! Bam! Bam! This time it was a doe, and the deer safely
passed the hunters and continued through the woods.
The hunters caught up
their dogs and headed down the road to put out on another deer track.
âThatâs the way to do
it, Pork Chop,â said Hank with encouragement.
âStay with the pack and run âem on through.â
âDoes that mean Iâve
graduated now?â asked Pork Chop.
âTime will tell,â said
Hank. âLetâs just hope youâre maturity
equals your ability.â
They rode down the dirt
trail a ways then the pickups stopped one behind the other.
âLooks like weâre gonna
get another try,â said Nikki, as she pranced excitedly in the box. âThis stuff just gets my adrenalin flowing
like nothing else will!â
âIâm up for another
round, too,â agree Cheyenne. âThat last
run was way too short. It was over
almost before it began.â
Another hunter released
his trail dog Gator. Before long Gatorâs
wailing howls rang through the trees as a signal that he was on the trail of
something big.
âPut âem all out,â said
one of the hunters. âLetâs get this
thing done.â
The Old Man released
Hank, Pork Chop, Cheyenne, and Nikki.
They ran, along with other dogs, toward the barking Gator dog. The race was hot and heavy for a while. Then it died down.
âHold up,â said
Hank. âI think Gatorâs lost the
trail. Pork Chop, Nikki, Cheyenne,â he
said, âsee what you can pick up, but donât stray too far off, though. We need to stick together.â
âIâll edge off to the
east,â said Cheyenne. She raised her
nose in the air as high as she could and then back to the ground as she reached
for the scent of the deer.
âIâm holding the
center,â said Nikki. Her breathing
coated with fog from the still cold air as she pranced through the palmettos.
âWhere you at, Pork
Chop?â shouted Hank.
There was nothing but
silenced from the missing Pork Chop.
âHe was right here beside us until the race broke down,â said Cheyenne as she
sniffed the ground and bushes.
âItâs that lack of maturity
thing again,â said Hank. âItâs gonna get
him in trouble.â
Hank, Nikki, and
Cheyenne followed their noses and the scent of a deer, which took them down a
wide ridge then across a juniper pond into the middle of a huge forest block
deep in the woods and miles from a dirt road.
Gator and the other dogs had long since disappeared in another direction
and could no longer be heard.
âThis donât look good,â
said Hank. I donât think weâve been here
before because nothing looks familiar.
That big buck has led us straight to no-manâs land.â
âI think youâre right,
Hank, I donât remember seeing this huge juniper pond,â said Cheyenne. âAnd we havenât seen a road for quite a
while.â
Without lifting her nose
from the ground, Nikki said, âWell, just make the most of it. We may as well hunt for deer while weâre
here.â She continued sniffing along the
side of the pond.
Hours passed and they
were no closer to getting out and onto a road.
And they were no closer to finding Pork Chop either. In the distance they heard a truck horn
blowing.
âThatâs gotta be the Old
Man looking for us,â said Cheyenne.
âWhich direction is that coming from?â
âIt sounds like itâs
coming from across the pond,â said Hank.
They squealed and barked
loudly hoping the Old Man would hear them as they walked up and down looking
for a shallow spot to cross. But there
was none to be found. Then they ran
around to the end of the pond to the north.
The sound of the horn disappeared.
They flanked the pond until they were back where they could hear the
horn again. They barked as loudly as
they could.
âHeâs got to hear us,â
said Cheyenne wearily.
âLetâs try going around
the pond the other way,â suggested Hank.
They ran through the
trees, bushes, and palmettos making their way around the pond until the horn
disappeared once more. The sun began to
set and filled the sky with a scarlet glow.
The three deer dogs were now out of breath and their legs ached from
running through the palmettos that nipped at them with sharp, spiked leaves. No matter where they were, they could no
longer hear the truck horn.
âI think the Old Man has
gone,â said Nikki. âI think weâre
lost. I think we wonât ever be able to
get back home again â ever.â
âStop all that
thinking,â interrupted Hank. âThe Old
Man will be back tomorrow. Nobody can
see anything in the dark. We should just
rest until daybreak, and then try to find our way around this pond.â
âI wonder what happened
to Pork Chop?â said Cheyenne with sadness.
âHeâll be okay. Heâs young and strong,â encouraged Hank.
They all curled up into
a wad to keep warm and slept through the cold and dark night.
The three dogs were awakened by the sound of rustling palmetto leaves.
âOh my, whatâs that?â asked a frightened Cheyenne jumping to her feet.
âSomething or someone is coming our way,â answered Hank. He stood up and looked over the bushes as high as he could and seeing only branches waving back and forth.
âMaybe itâs the Old Man,â chimed in Nikki hopefully.
The rustling became louder and faster until, before the three canines could react, out of the bushes popped none other than Pork Chop!
âI thought I smelt a familiar pack of ole dirty huntinâ hounds,â cried Pork Chop excitedly.
Cheyenne and Nikki jumped all over him, licking his face with slobbery kisses.
âAw, gee whiz,â blushed Pork Chop. You donât have to get all mushy.
âWhere on Godâs green earth have you been?â asked Hank, scratching his ear.
âWandering around this heck-hole of the woods looking for yaâll,â answered Pork Chop as he strutted back and forth grinning from ear to ear. He appeared pretty pleased with himself at this point.
âGlad to see youâre all right, ole buddy,â said Hank. âBut the bad news is weâre in the middle of nowhere and the Old Man gave up looking for us after dark last night. Our only hope is that he returns and we can get around or through this swampy pond to the other side in case he comes back for us before we get snake bit or become a gatorâs supper.â
âYaâll are worried about every little thing. Be happy â run, jump, and play while youâve got the chance,â said Pork Chop. He playfully ran circles around them until their reunion was soon interrupted by the scent of a smelly buck.
âLetâs go get him,â barked Hank.
Their strong walker-hound legs carried them effortlessly through the palmettos as they followed their noses through the woods. This game of hide and seek carried on until the buck made his final getaway. With the excitement of the deer race gone, the dogs turned their attention to the hunger pains growling in their stomachs.
âWhatâs for breakfast?â asked Pork Chop.
âUnless the Old Man comes for us, itâs all the crickets you can eat,â answered Hank.
When they made their way back to the last place they heard the Old Manâs truck horn and shouts, Cheyenne said, âHe will be here soon. The Old Man wonât give up on us.â
With noses to the ground, the dogs savored the woodsy scents while waiting for the Old Man to come. It wasnât long before they heard a familiar truck horn blow. The dogs barked loudly as they ran toward the blast echoing through the pines and junipers.
âHank! Come on boy!â shouted the Old Man. âHere boy! Here! Here! Here!â he bellowed. âCheyenne! Nikki! Pork Chop!â
âHeâs here! I knew he would come!â exclaimed Cheyenne.
The dogs ran toward the horn blast until they came splashing into the juniper pond. Soon they were up to their heads.
âI canât go any farther,â whined Nikki. âIâm going to drown.â
âNo, youâre not, Nikki,â encouraged Hank. âFollow me!â he shouted as he splashed further into the icy cold water.
âHank! Cheyenne! Nikki! Pork Chop!â yelled the Old Man even louder. The truck horn blasted again and again as the dogs barked in reply.
Hank was first to tumble through the bushes. He spotted the Old Man yelling for them as he held out the antenna of the tracking box zoning in on their location. With his tail wagging wildly and barking loudly, he ran toward the Old Man.
âGood boy, Hank!â shouted the Old Man. âWeâre the rest of your pack?â
Cheyenne was next out of the bushes with Nikki close on her tail.
âWhereâs Pork Chop?â asked the Old Man. âPork Chop!â he yelled. âHere, boy! Here! Here! Here!â He walked with Hank, Cheyenne, and Nikki to the pickup truck where he had food and water waiting for them.
âPork Chop! Pork Chop!â The Old Man hollered and blew his horn and waited. Pork Chop did not bark. The silence from across the juniper pond was broken by the sound of frogs croaking in the wetland.
âWhere is Pork Chop?â asked Cheyenne. âI thought he was with us.â
âHe stopped at the edge of the icy-cold pond. But I thought he would come on through with us,â said Hank. âHe better hurry up and get across. The Old Man canât wait much longer."
But the Old Man waited
and waited. He called and called for
Pork Chop. It was soon getting dark and
the old two-rut lane was muddy and boggy.
The Old Man did not need to get stuck out here in no-manâs land.
They waited another hour or so for Pork Chop to cross the juniper pond. The Old Man called and called for him and blew the truck horn. Pork Chop didnât answer. The Old Man walked up and down the side of the pond. With his beeper box, he tracked Pork Chop as he, too, walked up and down the other side of the pond. It appeared that Pork Chop was reluctant to cross the deep cold water.
The cold winter sky was once again turning pink as the sun set below the tall pines and darkness began to fall. They needed to leave.
âIâm sorry, Pork Chop, ole buddy,â said the Old Man. âI canât stay here all night.â
The Old Man put dishes of food and water on the ground behind the pickup truck. Next he removed his overcoat and slipped off his camouflaged T-shirt and laid it on the ground creating a familiar scent for Pork Chop. After putting his overcoat back on, he got in the truck and drove down the bumpy road.
It was a quite ride out of
the woods. Hank, Cheyenne, and Nikki fell
asleep in the dog box, tired from their long detour behind the juniper pond
into no-manâs land.
The next morning the Old Man loaded Hank, Cheyenne, and Nikki into the dog box and they headed for the woods once again. This trip would be not only for deer hunting, but dog hunting as well.
âI sure hope we find Pork Chop today,â said Hank. âHeâs got the makings of a good deer dog. Besides, I think I would miss my ole kennel mate if he donât come back.â
âIt was mighty cold out there last night,â said Cheyenne. âI hope he followed our scent across the pond and found the Old Manâs shirt and food that he left for him.â
The Old Man steered the pickup truck into the now familiar boggy road leading to the juniper pond. He stopped every once in a while to try and get a beep on Pork Chopâs tracking collar.
They continued down the
road and crossed over the dead carcass of a coon.
âThat poor little fellow
didnât make it,â said Nikki sadly. âWhat
do you think got him?â
âProbably the coyotes,â
said Hank.
âDo they eat dogs, too?â
asked Nikki.
âItâs been known to
happen,â said Hank. âIâve heard of dogs
getting lost in the woods. They get weak
and tired. Canât defend themselves. Thatâs when the coyotes make their move.â
âYou donât think â ,â
Nikki paused. âNo, I canât think that,â
she said.
âPork Chop is young and
strong. He can take care of himself,â
reassured Cheyenne.
The pickup truck rolled
to a stop. The Old Man got out and went
to the front of the truck. There laid
Pork Chop on top of the Old Manâs T-shirt, sound asleep.
âWake up, young feller,â
said the Old Man. âWe come to get you.â
Startled, Pork Chop
jumped to his feet. Immediately, he climbed
up on the Old Man licking his face and barking joyfully.
âThatâs him!â shouted
Nikki. âHeâs alive!â
âOf course heâs alive,â
said Hank. âI knew that little
whipper-snapper wouldnât give up. And the Old Man wouldnât ever leave none of
us behind.â
âPraise Jesus!â shouted
Cheyenne.
The Old Man gave Pork
Chop some water and fresh dog food and then loaded him into the dog box.
âBoy, am I glad to see
yaâll,â said Pork Chop. âWhat a night I
had. It was cold and dark and lonely.â
âWhy didnât you follow
us across the juniper pond?â asked Hank.
âI just didnât have
enough incentive at the time,â said Pork Chop.
âThe water was too cold and scary.â
âWhat changed your
mind?â asked Cheyenne.
âI finally got the
incentive. I didnât have to think twice
about running through that icy-cold water after a pack of coyotes got after
me! It was a close call, but thank
goodness I lost them in the water.â
âWow!â exclaimed
Nikki. âIâm glad we found you.â
âIâm glad the Old Man
didnât give up on me. I donât think I
could have lasted another night out here,â said Pork Chop.
They drove out of the
no-manâs land, through the muddy, boggy road.
It wasnât long before the Old Man found another deer track back in
familiar hunting territory. The Old Man
put Hank, Nikki, and Cheyenne out on the track.
Pork Chop darted for the door, wanting to join them. But the Old Man knew better than to
over-exert tired and exhausted Pork Chop and made him stay behind this time.
After an exciting day of
recovering Pork Chop and hunting for bucks, they returned to the hunt camp for
vittles.
âPork Chop, honey, you
know Iâm really glad youâre back with us,â said Cheyenne. âBut next time, stay your happy little self
with the pack and do not pull that stunt again!â
Everyone agree and they
all settled in for a well-deserved sleep.
The next morning, the
Old Man appeared on the porch and flipped on the light to the dog pens. . . . . . .
And so it went, they all
lived happily ever after chasing bucks every time the Old Man gave them a
chance to do so.
- The End -
Feb 10, 15 10:40 PM
Jan 31, 15 02:49 PM
Jan 09, 15 02:30 PM
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