15 January 2004




The first Gray rabbit hunt was a bust. Beautiful property near Pittsview Alabama, it was managed for it’s owners passion--birds. Specifically Quail. They were everywhere. Unless the land is managed for quail, they are rare enough around here to startle both the wary and the unwary.

I would be walking through the thick low brush and see something dart away. Tensing up and getting ready for the rabbit to go barreling away, I would feel my heart flutter away when suddenly a half a dozen of the fist sized heart attack inducers would explode out of the brush all around me. My reaction the first time was a wild jerking around looking for what was fixing to get me.

Soon we quit tensing up although the puckering continued, not because the birds quit busting out around us but we didn‘t see any rabbits. We walked the creek bottoms and brush patches. We checked the planted food plots. We checked the hillsides and ridges. Not a single rabbit. Quail everywhere. The question on our mind was “Do quail eat rabbits?”.

Towards the end of the hunt we came to a thick stand of planted pines. Judy quickly jumped and led the rabbit on two circles before it crossed fifteen yards from me. I fired a shot into the grass behind him, not even coming close. A already tired Judy decided if nobody was going to kill it, she dang sure wasn’t going to chase it anymore.

After that disaster of a hunt, I was somewhat surprised when Cuz called me a week or so later to tell me we were going back. This time we drove straight to the planted pines on the very back of the property. Letting the dogs out, they nosed around a few minutes before Lady and Little Girl took off barking with their head up.
Deer.
Judy looked in their direction and went back to work trying to find a rabbit. After 20 minutes, Lady and Little Girl came back to rejoin Judy in the work at hand. Both had sheepish looks at having lost their manners so completely and tried to tell us they were just checking out the next bottom over. Cuz wasn’t buying it for a minute and chastised them, threatening to ship them off to a deer club. They worked diligently the rest of the day.

Not a quail to be seen but plenty of rabbits. I guessed wrong repeatedly all morning. If I went into the bottom, the rabbit went up on the hillside. If I was on one hillside, he was on the next hillside over. At lunch, we had four rabbits. The key word here is “we”. That’s the good thing about a rabbit hunting group- The specifics don’t matter when telling an outsider about the quantity of rabbits. “We killed four” really meant Dusty, Cuz’s fourteen year old grandson killed two while Rye and Gary got one a piece.

Lunch is an informal affair with our small group. Tailgate down, Rye spreads small chunks of hoop cheese and souse meat on a bag and opens a pack of crackers. Elbows are only used to nudge Dusty away from the food so you can get your own. Like most fourteen year olds, he is all stomach. Tiny and Chris were working on a lease nearby and stopped in to see how we were doing. “Great” I told them “we got four so far”.

After lunch were more great races. I still hadn’t scored when the sun dropped below the tops of the pines. The dogs jumped as we moved back towards the trucks and moved in tight circles on the edge of a large green field. Tired I looked a point of trees that jutted into the field and thought briefly of walking to it in case the rabbit decided to cross the wide open field. The field was a hundred yards wide at that point and the teat of land broke it up in half. Instead, I set where I was and fiddled with my camera. Just as I reshipped the camera case I heard Cuz shouting “There he goes Chuck” I looked in time to see the rabbit skirt the edge of the point of trees and start the final fifty yard sprint to the safety of the thick dark pines. The rabbit was sprinting to safety and I was sprinting down the edge of the field to get into range. Slower than the rabbit, I skidded to a stop and lobbed in a desperation shot. I was trying to emulate Cuz, who was notorious making such shots.
Not even close.
Brag rolled him halfway down the hillside.

“We” closed out the day with 9.
Just between us the final score was
Brag 3
Gary 3
Dusty 2
Rye 1
Cuz missed
Chuck………..