Registered: May 2008
Location: Kentucky
Posts: 3146

My great grandfather coon hunted and my grandmother always said I got it from him. My dad packed me in the woods when I was but a toddler. I can still to this day remember climbing up a muddy bank when I must have been only 4-5 yrs old. Bob Spivey our local barber and hunting buddy of my fathers pointed out the first set of coon tracks to me in a sand bar in Laurel County,KY and I can still see those tracks vividly today.
My father quit hunting but I stayed after it. I had plug dogs. I was around 8 when I would go up a little holler behind our house at night. I was like Daniel Boone. I would stop at our family cemetery and sit on a fence post and listen to my blue dog run gray fox and just knew it was an ol boar coon. I would come in with some fascinating stories.
About 12-14 yrs of age I got a dog that would tree possums and I was the happiest little feller you ever seen. We had a coon on log each Sunday. I used to get home from church get blue and walk 2 miles just to put him in tree ing contest and hear the coonhunters tell stories. About that time I started hunting with a local fellow by name of Larry Messer. He and I walked many miles together.
Being from east ky coons were scarce so possum treeing was all we had. On weekends we would load up and go elsewhere to hunt and tree coons. I seen the sun come up many mornings on my way home. Man was I a hunter.
About 16 I started hunting with others like Jr Mills,Ronnie Joe Wilson,Tony Grubb,Alvin Messer,and John Smith. I am thankful they took a kid like me with them. They are lifelong friends.
My father started me hunting and tried to stop me lol. He said there was no future being a dog man. He used to give me permission to hunt so he could work me on farm next day so I would be too tired to go again.
It never worked. No person ever had the bug as bad as I.
At 16 I caught my first coon with my dog. I dug him out of a hole. I skinned that coon. It took me most of two days cause I had no idea how to do it,but boy was I proud.
As boys grow they meet girls but my hounds went with me. I will never forget my prom night. Dogs in box and a pretty girl. I told her my parents had told me to be in by 11. I dropped her off at 11 and off I went to the Cumberland River banks.
Sorry to rant about a quick run down of my history. It's just that I like to day dream about the days that's came and gone. I thank God for the opportunity I have had to run his hills and hollers following a tree dog. I find myself at ease out there and truly can enjoy talking to him while out on a coon hunt.
As important as these dogs are to me do not put them ahead of Him or your family.
I have done both and life was not good during those times.
However,life has way to get your priorities straight and I am thankful to still be hunting. Happy Coonhunting to all

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Registered: Feb 2004
Location: West Kill, NY
Posts: 2045

I most definitely did not grow up coon hunting! My parents were both from New York City, and I grew up in the suburbs, but my father bought a bloodhound when I was a toddler and I learned to walk by holding onto Hector's tail. We didn't keep Hector for long because he was too much dog for my parents to handle. They gave him to the NY State police after a couple of years, and he had a long career finding lost children and the like, but something about his voice penetrated my soul, and when I got my next hound 35 years later, I knew I'd found what I'd been missing all my life..
As an adult, my husband and I lived in the city. Our first dog was a Rhodesian Ridgeback. After he died, we got a redbone from the pound. I didn't know anything about hunting, but Rooster did. We had a cabin in the Catskills, and when I went out in the woods with Rooster I couldn't hang onto the leash. He would go crazy standing on trees and barking, so I had to find out what he was up to. I started going to UKC events and learning about coon hunting and Rooster taught me the basics of what I needed to know. We got into all manner of predicaments together, and they made me laugh and I found the other hunters all told stories and laughed at themselves and the situations their hounds got them into in the same way.
Rooster had many faults--he was a tree climber, he treed a lot of porcupines, and he was fearless about going into a bear den. We only had him for about a year and a half because he turned against my husband, who could't stand to let him off leash and was afraid that Rooster would never come back after hunting. My husband never took up hunting, but I was hooked.
After Rooster turned against my husband and chewed him up a couple of times, we had to put Rooster down, but we both knew we loved the hounds and had to have another. The next pup was a gorgeous redbone who loved chasing bears beyond anything, and we had plenty of bear at our place in the Catskills. He had a tremendous loud mouth and was as smart as they come, with a laid back temperament and a natural stack on the bench. At a field trial, he was as fast as any dog, but he didn't often bark at a coon--he much preferred bears and cats. Clamour slept in the bed with us, rode shotgun in the truck with me wherever I went, and made me a million friends. That mouth of his reflected off the mountains and couldn't have been prettier.

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