Hunting Dog Stories

Assuming it was a beagle?

Sorry for your loss but that is damn funny.

Our Doctor bought a high powered bird dog back in the 60s for high dollar. It was collar trained. Took the dog out with some friends to show it off, and the dog was having a bad day. The dr. hit the burn button and the dog still wouldn't respond. The dr. kept burning the dog until the dog ran so far off the transmitter was no longer effective. He never saw that dog again.

Beagle's are great hunting dogs.

Couple years ago I took my lab Slick on his first goose hunt in West Texas (he had a couple seasons experience but only with ducks). Not long after setting up, 3 huge greater Canada's cruise into the spread and we knock down all 3. Slick takes off to do his thing but turns out one of the geese wasn't quite dead, he stood up and charged. Slick immediately decided he wanted no part of that big sumbitch and ran back to the blind. I was laughing far too hard to be mad at him.

quote:

---

Slick immediately decided he wanted no part of that big sumbitch and ran back to the blind.

---

I was in high school when I got my first lab. His name was duke and cost $20 as he was a "pure" lab. I trained him myself but knew nothing about training. Went hunting 1 evening and shot a wood duck. Duke took off and I could hear him splashing in this rice field for 15-20 minutes. He was all offer. Forgot to say wood duck was shot a little late in the evening so it was a little hard to see him in the dark. Haha. Everything got quiet and I started calling duke. He finally came out of the rice field with wood duck in mouth. I grab the duck but didn't see it was alive. I put it down with the others and it went right back of me in bayou and dove. Never saw it again. I wish I had a picture of duke's face when that happened. I think he lost respect for me at that moment.

I was duck hunting Steele Bayou in Mississippi a few years ago with a friend. I arrived at the camp at about 5:00 and woke Wayne up. We got in the Polaris and took off. He stopped at a nearby camp and I asked why, he replied we were getting a lab to work for a friend. Well we put Bo, (a big black male lab) in the kennel and were on our way. Wayne was drinking beer at 5:30 am and crashing through the Steele Bayou swamp on the way to the blind. We arrived at the blind, got our gear out and got settled. Ducks were flying, everything was right. Wayne asked me..."Where is Bo?" I replied "I guess in the kennel." Wayne asked me to go get the dog. I walked to the polaris and there was no kennel and no Bo. I walked back and sat down and Wayne asked "Where is the dog" I replied, "I guess he didn't like your driving" There was no Bo, no kennel no nothing in the bed of the polaris. Well we had to backtrack and find the dog. I wanted to wait, but Wayne thought not. We come up to a deep hole and there was about 8 inches of the kennel above the water line. There was Bo with only his head above water. He was too heavy to pick up in the Kennel so I stepped to the side and unlatched the door. Bo took off like I shocked him with a cattle prod. He ran all the way back to his camp, (about 2 miles). When arrived back at camp the owner had awakened and Bo was asleep on the deck. He asked how the dog did and we said he did great, blind retrieves, hand signals...you name it. Bo's owner asked us to take back the next day. Well the next morning, we stopped at the camp to get Bo and he would not let us out of the polaris. Bo had had enough of the kennel and that polaris.

Over the years my family has had just about every type of hunting dog imaginable. Coon, deer, rabbit, squirrel, bird, fox.
I don't have any funny stories though. But lots of good memories. Makes me sad that my beagles are older and can't run much anymore.

Back around Thanksgiving, a brown hound showed up at our house. My 14 year old son immediately named the dog "Muffin", thinking that if she had a name it would be harder for Mom and Dad to refuse her. We already have 3 dogs plus 2 of neighbors that practically live with ours...Muffin didn't endear herself to my wife by chewing up the backdoor mat on night number one. We tried in vain to find Muffin a home, but no takers so she sort of settled in to the pack by default. She showed signs of being a squirrel dog by treeing a squirrel or two in the yard.

Fast forward to last week, long after Muffin was a part of the family, when my first cousin heard of a Wounded Warrior squirrel hunt in the Tensas NWR....he thought that we were still looking for a home for Muffin, so he just picked her up on a Thursday without notice to anyone and delivered the "squirrel dog" Muffin to the hunt, 50 miles from my home, thinking that a Warrior would want her. We noticed that young Muffin was missing over the weekend and, after searching high and low around the house, discovered what had happened on Monday. However, there was a problem.....seems Muffin did fine on her trial hunt on Friday, treeing a squirrel almost immediately. However, when the shotgun fired, Muffin vanished into the wilderness in terror.

When I learned of Muffin's fate on Monday, I was really saddened and couldn't bear the thought of the hapless hound lost in the TNWR....and dreaded keeping the secret of the loss of Muffin from my kids, especially my 12 year old daughter. So, late on Monday pm, I headed for the refuge towards a camp near where the dog had been lost. I had called the son of the camp owner earlier on Monday and, miraculously, as I approached Warsaw, I got a call back from him indicating that he had found a dog about 10 miles from the camp that might be Muffin. After meeting him at the Warsaw Bar parking lot, I was elated to find that it was indeed miraculous Muffin. She cried from the Warsaw Bar to Delhi.....very grateful to be recovered! I wish that muffin would have had a Go-pro on her head for the entire incident, from the squirrel hunt on Friday to her rescue at dark on Monday!