The hunt started slow with the threat of rain hanging in the air. Brag had assured me last night, that it wouldn‘t rain till dark, but I must say, I had my doubts. We finally kicked a small sager out of some really tough briars. Just about as tough as the ones at Mr. Murty’s place, only a few miles west of us. I don’t know what it is about Lee County briars, but they are sure a mean bunch. The rabbit led the dogs on a figure eight before Brag dropped him on the edge of a planted firebreak. Cuz’s dogs, Judy and lady were first to the rabbit with Julie, Maizey, Dixie and Sugar bringing up the rear. The second “rabbit” race started only a few minutes later with Brag yelling “Rabbit”. He was in the middle of a hillside, thick with small planted pines. Hitting the hot track, the dogs opened up. I was standing at the bottom of the hill on a small planted strip that stretched up the fairly steep incline watching for the rabbit when a doe bounded into view. As I watched the doe, a horrible suspicion grew in my mind. Brag and My dogs were running that deer and not a rabbit.. I sprinted up the hill trying to get to the trail before the dogs crossed. Making it with less than a minute to spare, I broke off a thick pine bough and hide behind a tree next to the trail. When they raced into view, I jumped from behind the tree, yelling and swinging my branch. They yelped an put their tails between their legs, racing back to the relative safety of Brag. They behaved fairly well the rest of the day, although I’m still not sure what Dixie was up to for a half hour.

The final race of the day started a few minutes after turning the dogs loose at a new place. I moved down a hillside and sat on a log to listen to the dogs running in a hardwood bottom over the hill from where I was setting. With Brag, Dusty, Cuz and Rye lining the line where the hardwoods ended and the planted pines started, it wouldn’t be likely for the rabbit to come through here without me at least hearing a shot fired at him when he crossed that picket line of sharp shooters. I cradled the old Fox under my arm and used that hand to hold my snake chaps open while I dug a peppermint out of my pocket with my free hand. Peppermints are a vice of mine that came when I quit smoking several years ago. You know what happened next, don’t you? Yep, the rabbit came strolling down the hill, only a matter of feet from me. He was well ahead of the dogs, having slipped past some of the sharpest eyes, I know. I fired two shots, neither of which had a chance of hitting the rabbit who had shifted into a higher gear when the “log” suddenly began to jerk around trying to raise it’s 16 ga. Shotgun.

Our final score? I really don’t remember, but We got around seven. They were hard earned though. The white tip on all the dogs tails were a bright red, while Dixie and Julie had noses that were streaked with blood. Sort of like mine. The nose, not the tail.

Towards dark , the threat of rain had become a fine mist that was gathering on the windshield. The wipers smeared the wet dust across our windshields as our three truck convoy started the journey home in the gathering gloom. Home to a hot shower.

But first the dogs…….