A lesson learned

Well, I've caught a good bit of hogs with Zeke now. He is now 16 months old. He can trail, jump, run, and bay a hog by himself. He is fine with company as well. Every hog he has been on, he has caught an ear, and locked down. That being said, he has never been cut, so his true grit has never been tested. I have caught some good hogs with him, but most have been 150 #'s or smaller. He has caught several with good teeth, but he just seems to be smart about how he handles himself around the rank ones. Regardless, if he eyes another dog coming in, he is going to suck up a hog’s ear quick. He just needs to see something else willing to commit.

Well, the other day, it was time to verify his grit. We cut Ramsey, Beulah, and Zeke out in an area that had hog sign. We just free cast them. It was not long before Ramsey struck in. Shortly after, we heard them all bay. We waited a while, and sure enough it broke. As they were in hot pursuit, we caught a glimpse of them through the brush pouring it on. They broke down around some water, and after a minute, they began to move out again. Within minutes, I heard the two females baying. Looking at the Garmin Astro, I could see that Zeke was there, but he was not sounding off.

Well, we went ahead and cut some young dogs to them. We also sent Kris's Rabbit dog in. Rabbit is a cur cross. He tends to try to catch when he arrives at a bay. Knowing that Zeke would not wait once he saw Rabbit coming, we hustled in to the bay. However, once we arrived, I only saw Ramsey and Beulah together. All the other dogs were just milling around. It was then I looked at the top of the tree above the females to see a coon. Man, talk about embarrassing. I told them to get on, and go hunt. All the dogs ripped out in search of a hog (hopefully). The only thing I can figure, is when they bogged down around a water hole, that coon must have took off close by. The girls just could not resist putting it up the wood. Again, I was not happy, but it is my own fault for hunting them on coons periodically.

Tick was heading back in the truck’s direction as if to say he wanted no part of coon hunting. I was fine with that. I don’t want him getting into the habit of backing dogs that are trashing. All the others were out in search of the right game. It was not long before I heard Ramsey strike in again. Oh, the thoughts that went through my head. It was not long before all 5 dogs were getting out of hearing. We decided to head for the truck, so that we could keep them honest.

We drove around to the boundary road which we call the Canal Grade. I kept watching the Astro’s screen. It just so happened that a woods road cut directly into the woods where they would have been perpendicular to the Canal Grade. We crossed the culvert crossing with ease. Then, we went down to the dead end. As we hopped out of the Chevy, we heard two dogs coming right at us. We must have turned their hog. It was Beulah and Kris’ redbone Dixie. They started to take a southern turn. In the distance, I could hear Zeke and Ramsey baying. I looked at the GPS to verify my thoughts. Kris said that Rabbit was there as well. I could not hear him, but I did see him there on the screen. We elected to pack Beulah and Dixie up with Tick, and move on to the bay. Away Tick went filing in behind the other two dogs.

We walked about 40 yards into the brush, and the GPS read 261 yards to glory. We were able to walk in an old clear cut right down the edge of some planted pines. We made our way towards the swamp that contained our beast. After several minutes, we were within 100 yards. I could just begin to hear Rabbit there as well. Kris said, it must be a good one, because he is baying. I was just glad because I’ve never seen Rabbit bark on an old’ coon. That relieved me to say the least. Looking at the terrain that they were held up in, I knew it was a hog. As we approached, the dogs were really booming. I could hear them moving around a lot. Kris was the designated “legger”, so I let him pass me up as we got within 20 yards. He squatted down below the low canopy. This is when, I got nervous. He said, “Man that is a good hog”.

Now, at this point, he had my curiosity. It is like being at a restaurant, where your wife says, “Oh, this is horrible”. You can’t help but to take a bite. It is just a natural response. So there I am, in this little brush tunnel. I asked Kris to step to the side. I wanted to see this “good one” for myself. As he moved, I caught a glimpse of black movement. It looked good, but not monstrous. Then I heard the hog charge the dogs. A huge fight broke out, and they moved several yards. As we approached to where they did have it bayed, my heart sank. The ground was red. The leaves were red. It was my own fault. I knew better than to let Kris turn Rabbit out with Zeke.

After years of hunting, I have learned to categorize dogs into several groups. Generally speaking you have about 4 groups. The first group is dogs that want to bay, but have no desire to place a mouth on that hog. They are what I call the “tattle tail” dogs. The next group is the dogs that love to bay, but they only get fully satisfied when they feel their teeth sink into game. Now, in my classification of this group, they will let the game bay up, basically just keeping it from leaving. However, once their master is there, they will find a way to commit. Adding a few dogs with this type of dog will generally put them into the commit mode. I refer to this type as “my style” dogs or “smart dogs”. The third group is what I would place Rabbit in. These are what I refer to as “lets see how bad they are” dogs. These dogs generally just try any sized hog once it is bayed. If they get cut down, they back up, and begin to bay. They are going to try it no matter what to see what the hog has for fight. If they get on a rank hog, they generally are the ones that get cut to pieces. They have a fighter’s mentality, and don’t think the process through. Most of the time, these dogs are at home healing, because they got crazy the last time out. They can typically be hunted once a month, and the rest of the time, they are laid up to heal. This type is what I often refer to as a “bay breaker” as well. Having this type of dog can wear a man’s patience down quick. I’ve owned a few of these, but they no longer reside at my residence. The forth type of dog is what we all call a “straight catch” dog. No matter how bad it gets, that dog will be there for the duration. Sometimes unfortunately, the duration is eternity. If you are looking for a catch dog, this forth type is the only one to have. Knowing that when it gets tough, this dog is going to sell it out to help you is as good as you can hope for. Hopefully, every hog dog hunter will have at least one of the second and forth types of dogs, before they retire from their hunting career.

   Anyway, I knew Rabbit would get my stuff too revved up. That is why when we go to my club I don’t let him bring him. It is not that he is bad, or acts up. I just know what a dog with that mentality can do to a pack. It’s often a wrecking service if you will. Anyway, back to the story. I see that there is obviously at least one dog cut. At this time, we are only about 7 yards from the bay. All three dogs are baying like champions. They are moving back and forth taking turns switching from right to middle to left in front of the hog. The hog is backing itself up to a short ledge in a ditch. The water looks like it is 1 foot deep where it is. There were no trees bigger than 4” in diameter in the area. Everything was little and shrub-like. I made my way to within 3 yards of the hog. His back was to me. I found a little 3” tree to get behind, like it was going to save me or something. I told Kris to get ready. It was then I yelled “catch that hog”. With the command, all three dogs dove on to his head. Instantly, they were slung off. After he charged them, putting some pretty good licks on the dogs, he retreated back to the same spot. Again, he backed right up against the ledge.

   As he stood staring at the dogs, he continued to sharpen his cutters. Man, did he have a set. From behind, you could not help but see them. I did not notice any new wounds on the dogs. Zeke had his lip split on his right side, as well as a nasty cut just below his left ear. Rabbit was cut bad behind his left shoulder. Ramsey did not appear to have a scratch on her. After getting our breath, I told Kris to get ready again. To the dogs, I yelled, “catch that hog”. For the second time since we had arrived, they all dog piled him. It was not meant to be. He through them like rag dolls. I knew we where in trouble. It was then, that we decided to capture him ourselves. Neither one of us had the look of enjoyment on our faces. This was work, and we both knew it.

   I began the task of carefully breaking small branches, while trying not to make a sound. I was trying to clear the area as much as possible. I was able to get it as clean as need be to within feet of the hog’s tail. My heart was pounding as hard as it ever has. I slowly snuck up behind this black beast listening to his teeth clashing together 2 times a second. My hands were moving in, but my feet were set like stone. I physically could not make them move. My heart was pumping like that of an Olympic pool filter. I could feel every hair on my body rise to full attention. The biggest thing in my mind was my family. My wife and daughter kept coming to the top of my list. Deep down, I knew this was not going to end well. It was then I came up with a better plan in my mind.

   Kris was single. If he was hurt, I did not see where it would affect as many people. With me being injured, it would cost my family a lot of income. However, in my mind, only Kris depends on Kris. It was then, that I slowly backed back towards the little tree that I had as refuge. Kris did not know what I was doing he just slowly backed up behind me. Once at the tree, I told Kris that he was a much better hog catcher. I began to build Kris’s confidence up the best I could. I explained that he needed to catch this hog for Rabbit. He had been cut, and needed to return the hog’s favor. Physiologically, I pumped his head full till it almost exploded. After several minutes, my new catch dog Kris decided he would give it a whirl. He slowly slid by me. I told him that if he could just get a tail or leg, I would get a hold of a leg as well.

   Kris made his way to within 2 foot of the hog. I must be honest he was shaking, but not as bad as I was for him. The dogs were slowly tensing up anticipating the moment when they were going to dive on. As Kris got to within 4 inches of the hog’s rear, I could tell he was going to commit. Kris grabbed the hog’s tail. He lifted as hard as he could, but the hog did not budge. All 3 dogs piled on the head. As I reached for a leg, one could not be found. He had wedged it up under the ledge. As Kris turned loose, the hog spun on a dime intending to do battle with his human adversaries. Trying to back up, Kris fell onto his back. With a very fast fluent motion, I grabbed the back of his shirt, and I snatched him up to his feet. As we jumped behind our refuge tree, the dogs latched on to his back side. He instantly turned to fight them. Again, he chased them around the little loop of a ditch. It had one little tree right in the middle of it. After delivering some blows, he retreated back to his bunker.

   We tried this several times, each time only failing. I knew I did not have the grit or desire to give it a go myself. This monster could turn as quick as any hog I had ever been on. He was truly rank. By this time, we had been there at the bay for about 30 minutes. I knew this hog had no interest in leaving. It was then I told Kris I was going to the truck for backup. He decided he would stay to watch the bay. With that, I started back to the truck. I was worn out. It was beginning to get hot. On the way to the truck, I grabbed my Garmin Astro to see what the other 3 dogs were doing. It showed them bayed about .8 miles away. All 3 dogs were still together. As I arrived at the truck, I drank every drop of water in the bottle I had already opened. I never knew water tasted so good. Knowing that I needed to get back as soon as possible, I grabbed a few supplies, and back to the bay I went. I brought a camera, a knife, and my catch dog.

   The catch dog’s name is Glock. He is about 10 years old, but he has stopped plenty of hogs in the past for me. If you were to ask his bloodline, I would have to say “23”. As for size, 40 cal is what he brings to the table. I walked Glock towards the bay, trying to come up with a way to not have to use him. He is my last resort. I did not want to just call the dogs off of this one, as he was the best I have bayed in my new club. Knowing that he could wreck a good pack of dogs, I decided I had no other choice. As I got close, the dogs were still selling it out. I made my way into the bay. Kris said they had continued to try him, but continued to get run around. The hog just had too much for these 3 dogs.

   I told Kris of my plan, and asked that he stay behind our safe haven. When the coast was clear, I gave the dogs the “break” command. They instantly all turned and settled back a few feet farther. I grabbed Glock, and gave the hand signal. Instantly, he went in. The hog never knew what hit him. I commanded Glock to hit him again. This time he hit directly between the ears on the back of the hog. As he delivered the second blow, the dogs piled on. They knew it was now or never, if they wanted to satisfy their desire for revenge. The hog battled, but he did not have the life blood to keep up the good fight. He slowly sank into the water as the dogs clamped on to his hearing devises. The murky brown water had a red tint to it, as I made my way to the skirmish.

   We both worked together to pull this hog up on to a little higher ground. Kris confirmed it was in deed a barrow. This hog once a boar, had some fine knives. He was a trophy for sure in these parts. We knew who ever had turned him loose, did us a favor. I’m sure they will see the return eventually. It was at that moment in time, it hit me that I needed to check on Beulah and the two pups. As I looked at the screen, Kris asked what I was doing. When I showed him that they were bayed, he admitted he had forgotten all about them. We decided that we were going to take our time, as we were both completely wore out. We took some pictures of the barr. We also checked the dogs over good to see what damage they had incurred as part of our morning exercise. We measured the cutters. His right side was an even 2 inches. The left was 2 1/8 inches. They were sharp as razors.

   His size was very hard to judge. He was mature, but because he had been castrated, his body had a strange shape to it. Instead of a big shoulder plate, he had a very girthy abdomen. As we gathered our belongings to leave the spot that God had given us access to, we both thought he would go somewhere around 250 pounds. Normally, I am very good at judging, but this hog completely threw me. Looking back, it still amazes me that he could be so big, yet turn on a dime. He had as fast a first step, as I have ever seen. When he would collide with dogs, you could hear the destruction. It was obvious that this hog was a veteran. He had been teaching dogs lessons for years.

   As we headed for the truck, we just had the dogs follow us. About half way back, Ramsey threw her head up, and began to wind. I then saw her put her head down, and she began sweeping back in forth through the brush. I was so tired, I just let her go. I made sure to keep the two males with us. As we arrived at the truck, we boxed the two males who looked like they had just fought in a prize fight. Both dogs wounded, tired, and hot, still had the look of peace on their faces. They were proud of themselves, and it showed. However, they were not near as proud as their owners were. They had given it all for us, and it was greatly appreciated.

   I began driving in the direction of Beulah and the two pups. I could see that they were moving again. It did not bother me in the least, as we were completely whooped. They were close to a mile from us. As I drew nearer, I came to a dead end. When I got out, they were 250 yards from us according to the GPS. I did not even give them time to sound off. I instantly began calling them in. Within minutes Dixie showed up at the truck. About another minute later, Tick came sauntering up. I checked the GPS for Beulah. She was just over 100 yards out. As we un-collared the dogs in the box, she appeared out of the thick green waste high grass. She was cut as well. I knew she would be all right. She just needed some good cleaning up. Normally, I make my dogs load in the box on their own, but knowing that she had worked extremely hard for me, I helped her load up. After we gave them all some water, we headed to find Ramsey.

   We headed back for the Canal Grade, where we went back to the dead end. I checked the GPS, and realized that Ramsey had moved out. We went through the club traveling from road to road trying to get close to her. When she was directly straight in from us, there just so happened to be a woods road. “Just so happened” in my mind means “GOD placed it there for me”. We made our way down the submerged road hoping that she would slow up just enough for us to get her. As we came around a corner, there she was. Her nose was on the ground working the track out of the water. There were hog tracks all around the edge of the road in the pines along the ditches. As I walked over to her, I looked below her nose. Sure enough, she was on a good one. It had “big” written all over it. Seeing this, I told Ramsey to load up. As I opened the middle section of my dog box, she hopped in. I reached in and took off her collars.

   We both marked the spot on our GPS systems. After all the dogs had done for us, and that fact that everyone involved was completely given out, we decided it was best to save that track for another day. We had already taken one monarch from that block that morning. It would leave us something to dream about in hopes of catching it another day. Who knows, it might be you that goes with us when we get on that hog next time. Until then, the mystery hog will continue to grow. One thing is certain the Cutter Bay pack will be ready.