bricklayer
UKC Forum Member
Registered: Feb 2008
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Posts: 61 |
A tribute to "Pete"
I've raised and trained coonhounds, mostly redbones since I was 14 yrs old, I'm 51 now, so I've followed a few dogs in my time.
I lost the best dog I ever owned to a stroke the other evening. I've had faster dogs, and dogs that treed harder, but I have never had a better dog than Pete. Most all dogs have faults, Pete was near as perfect as they come.
Pete was out of a long line of Timber chopper and Tioga valley dogs.
His granddaddy was "dawns timber jack' and his daddy was a tioga valley dog I bought off of the late Ralph Snyder.
His mom was out of Brubakers NTCH red Hercules.
Petes daddy was a No nonsense kick dirt in your face slobber mouth, eyes rolled back in his head, up on the tree kinda coonhound with one major fault... He could get mean at the tree.
Petes momma was a laid back sweet disposition kinda hound, that liked to get off and hunt on her own, not real vocal on track, but a good tree dog.
Pete was born among a litter of pups that were all reserved and accounted for before they were old enough to be weaned.
Pete was partially blind in one eye at birth, confirmed by a trip to the local vet. My wife and kids took a real liking to Pete from day one, and he got special attention and a constant..."can we keep him dad" plea. The way they messed with, and loved that pup how could I say no!
Silently I thought to myself he best turn out, because they'll never let me get rid of him.
So it became official..."Shade MT one eyed Pete" became part of our home.
Pete wasn't my earliest starting dog, but by the age of 10 month old he was started good, and by 1 1/2 yr old he was doing well on his own. My wife and girls taught him to sit, lie down,speak, shake hands , he loved to play ball in the yard with an old de-flated basketball which he would retrieve, I used to laugh and say.."he's a redbone retriever"
By the age of 3 pete was a good very solid dog. Pete was also a very easy dog to break, He had a very short spell running deer when young, but I never had to shock him to break him of it. Amazingly in all the years I owned him he never once treed a possum that I can remember, guess they didn't thrill him.
Pete tried his hand at bear hunting once, and I found him the next morning at a home a couple miles away. Seems they were awakened by Petes barking at the end of their horse pasture. Upon investigation they discovered him treed on a hemlock and were amazed to see a bear perched above them! I apologized over and over, which was unnecessary because they loved him! Pete seemed to have that effect on people.
In fact twice during his lifetime I loaned him out to help get a young pup started. Once to a young teenage boy, and another time to a farm family in York county PA. Both times they were sad to see him go.
Pete hit a track in a standing cornfield once and I heard something big coming through the corn, I ran to cut him off at the edge thinking it was deer (but thinking in my mind nah he wouldn't) I was surprised when not one bear but 3 came smashing right past me, I though oh boy here we go! Pete left the corn and treed in a creek bottom, I fully expected to see a bear when I got there but was pleased to see it was a coon! He got a good rewarding that time!
If Pete had any fault it was that he secretly wanted to be a foxhound. Very occasionally without warning, usually some cold winter night when coon weren't running he'd trail a fox.
I think he was around 10yrs old when he last did. He struck track and I could tell he was on old briar red. The chase was a good one and ended on top of a high hardwood ridge. It was a steep climb which didn't help my displeasure. I fully expected a hole, but was surprised to see him baying in the end of a large log about 3' in diameter. I gave him a gruff remark..."I'll bet that's no coon in THERE!" I hunkered down and shined in, and sure enough, way back up that log was the nicest red fox you ever did see. I was searching for a switch to whip him, and Pete knew it was coming cause he got real sheepish kinda. But just as I was walking back up to him, he gave a half hearted bark as if to say...."I know I shouldn't have, but just look at him aint he something!'...I didn't have the heart to whip him so I just said."aw come on" and headed back down the ridge, and away we went.
Pete was the only dog I left ride up front, I kept an old blanket behind the seat, and he'd sit over there beside me while the others rode in the box on the back.
I could write a book with all the hrs and hunts I spent with him, all over the state, and more coon than I could count or recall.
It would have been 14 yrs this Aug.
It seemed only fitting I would be right there beside him in his kennel when he suffered a stroke. I had just fed him, and watered him, when it hit him. I knew something was wrong he took a few steps but his legs didn't work right. I got a blanket and carried him into the house. I laid him down. I stayed with him, and knew he was dying. It might be selfish of me but I didn't want to be there, so told my wife I was gonna take a little walk on the mt. I had only been gone 20 min or so and decided I needed to get back. When I walked in the door my wife was upset, and I knew he was gone. She said he had passed away 10 min ago.
I dug a good grave and lowered him in. The hardest thing I've had to do in a long time was fill that hole in. I stood for a while before shoveling in the first shovel full, and the memory's flowed.
My wife remarked later...."I'm not sure if dogs go to heaven...but if they do...i'll bet he's giving them coons a rough time"
PR Shade MT one eyed Pete"....go rest high on that mt ole boy.
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05-15-2016 01:34 PM
