I heard Tiny shouting something as djmed and I watched in the opposite direction, down the old logging road. I spun around camera in hand, in time to see, but not shoot the rabbit as he bounded toward djmed. I suspect he was going for the throat. It wasn't the first attack by the cabin rabbit.

I had met djmed for the morning’s pre-season race at the head of Poor House Road and led him to the pine plantation where due to property shortages and greedy deer hunters, I’ve been mainly restricted to running The Rabbit Journal‘s current pack of four little ladies.

Djmed parked his oversized truck that carried his oversized body (not fat, mostly. Djmed is just a really big boy. The kind that you want as your backup in a bar fight, not the kind that you have to backup from) at the gate as I dialed (quaint, huh) Tiny’s cell phone number to tell him that we were at the front and fixing to let the dogs out. We all had consistently seen rabbits near the gate. Tiny’s cell phone rang until the voicemail picked up. With a sigh, djmed and I had to go to the cabins to make sure he was up.

The ruts weren’t as bad as I expected though the Teats had wallowed the holes out enough that I had to slip the pathfinder into four-wheel drive to get out of the last one. Tiny was up and waiting for us, so djmed and I led the way back to the front.

We put the dogs out and soon we heard Lucy’s I’ve got a track bark. Julie, Dixie and Kate ran in her direction. Less then two minutes later the three older dogs showed back up. Lucy’s bark by this time had taken on a persistent growl that comes with a hot track. Julie dance in front of me and Dixie squatted at my feet saying “She’s lying, Boss. And watch your finger on that button, we’re right here” despite the fact neither had on the collar and hadn’t wore the dogtra electric pine limbs in almost a year.

Djmed and I walked for almost an hour without getting a race. Only one time did we get our hopes up, but the dogs couldn’t seem to get the track straightened out in the wet brush. I don’t know about djmed, but I was wet, not with sweat, but from the water on the leaves left by yesterday’s showers. Tiny had waited on his four-wheeler, his bad leg stretched out.

In desperation caused by my bragging to djmed about all the rabbits I had been running, we moved to run the cabin rabbit. I quietly prayed for a rabbit.
The little ladies (ladies is a term very loosely used on the hounds) cold trailed from the cabin to the Devils Walking Sticks bottom across the road before they jumped. They burned up him up from there till he crossed the road near Tiny and djmed.
On the second loop I heard Tiny shout. I turned, camera in hand, to see the rabbit in mid leap, heading towards djmed.
“Watch it djmed he’s charging” I shouted, camera forgotten in my hand. The rabbit, probably seeing his surprise attack had been spoiled, veered off into the brush. The dogs made another circuit before losing him completely.

I saw the rabbit as he crossed back. He sat in the road for a minute appearing to dare us to approach.
I called the dogs but they couldn’t seem to find the scent. Then again, they didn’t seem to be trying to hard.
Woozies!

It was after nine, our usual quitting time, so djmed and I loaded up the dogs. Djmed departed for Lake Martin, Tiny for the lakes in Pittsview, and me for a house I had to help clean for a dinner with GF’s grandmother.
Next Saturday, I think I’ll run the north line again