Old cat

God gives you one good dog.

My catahoula was the ugly solid black with brindle socks and a tornado looking white chest. No one wanted him.

Now he’s protected my son from countless human and natural dangers. He was supposed to die at 6 with worms and now he’s 12.

My old man now protects chickens and hunts coyotes and I couldn’t be more proud of the life he fought for.

He hunts well on coons, anything that smells similar to a coon, squirrels, will run a deer for a thousand yards and come back, will rip the throat out of a hog, and he’s even retrieved ducks.

He’s hell when hell shows itself and he’s love more love than needed when all of the grandkids are here. My son treats him as a guide to my property.

If this is my best dog, I’m thankful.