has a running back like the rabbit we ran on our second race of our weekly pre-season exercise.
He held his position in thin cover, letting the dogs run past him. The girls milled all around before the sager broke, running in my direction when Lucy was almost on top of him. Seeing me, he reversed course, back into the converging dogs, weaving his way through before leaving them in the dust.

The ride down to Seale was pleasant.
The air rushing in the rolled down windows in Brag’s little city truck was cool as we turned into the gate off of county 39 to run the “back fifty of our hunting lease on a pine plantation.

I spent the next thirty minutes fussing after turning the girls out.
Like a gang of eight year olds they raced up the old grass overgrown logging rode, then back to see what was holding up Brag and myself. In between, they were laying smelly landmines in the pre-dawn darkness.

Brag and I were busy putting on the bug repellent and, in my case, snake chaps. I don’t care if the plan is to stay on the roads or not.

The girls continued to stay on the road with Brag and myself except for five yard forays into the blackberry patches that lined the trail, only to pop right back out to make sure that Brag and I were still there.

So much for the plan to stay on the road or at the truck and let the girls do the hunting. I moved off the road onto the dry hillside, the girls following and fanning out, comforted by the fact that “we” were hunting.

The drought has been hard on Alabama this year.
The soil here is a sectional mixture of red clay and sand from some primeval sea.
Ruts in the Alabama clay usually had some water, but were now a patchwork of dried cracks. Even in the early morning coolness, the honey suckle, poke and other plants leaves were curled and drooping from the lack of water.
The forest debris crackled underfoot like cornflakes.

Brag hooted from a ditch that is normally a creek bed to let me know his position. Shortly after, I heard Lucy, our “nose” started her yard dog bark. The other girls near me, looked up, listened for a moment before charging off in her direction
Soon the race was on. One thing about it, this pack isn't melodious. Kate sounds good, hammering on the trail while Mystery sounds like a strangled chicken. Dixie and Susie sound similar.
Brag got back to the road in time to see the rabbit cross. It was a big buck rabbit that gave the “girls” a good hour and a half run until they lost it near the creek bed that Lucy had found him in.
I waited near Brag on the road with the girls running in front of me. Glancing down the road I saw a deer cross the road from the direction that the girls were running. It paused on the edge and I noticed that it was to large for my tastes. I prefer the type that you can tie the feet together and tote it like a suit case. Tender, you know?

We moved after that race, the big buck rabbit having cut two big circles over most of that fifty acres.

We decided to run Roger’s Road. That’s a logging road that runs to one of the Florida Boy’s deer stands

There are plenty of rabbits near his stands this year. Since he is a dedicated deer killer and hates us rabbit hunters running dogs near his stands, I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to hear how much we plan to hunt around him this year. But Cuz does hold the lease.
Heh!

Once again, the girls wanted to stay on the road until I plunged into the briars with them.
Good for the gander, I suppose.
I hadn’t gone 20 yards before Dixie and Lucy opened up. Suzie, walking with me, took off, nose down and sounding off. The pack split, with two rabbits going.
They lost one of the rabbits and merged back together. This race lasted a good two hours. They lost him shortly after the running back analogy.
One thing I’ve noticed about one eyed Suzie is that she is fast and hangs with our fastest dog, Kate. She keeps Kate on her blind eye, I suppose as a crutch. I’m not sure if this is a good thing or not.
Kate has a tendency to over run the trail and occasionally tries to shortcut the rabbit. Neither trait is something I want Suzie picking up
It was getting hot, so we called it a day.
Oh, and by the way, this is Suzie

And this is Mystery


Only one tick today. How he swam through the bug spray, I’ll never know. The bites this summer a real slow in healing.