C'mon boys, let's go a' huntin'!
10/20/2010 1:27:55 PM
Are your feet itching? No, this isn't a commercial for Gold Bond powder. I'm talking about the itchy feet coon hunters get when the leaves start to fall and, as the old timers used to say, the law comes in for coon hunting.
It's a damp, cool day here in Raleigh and tonight from all indications will be a perfect night to step outdoors and try to give the old masked bandit a run. Our coon season came in on Monday night and tonight will be my first opportunity to strap on the Browning Buckmark and cut one of these brindle dogs loose for some serious business.
If you are like me you don't hunt for the pleasure of taking game. You are generally satisfied with good dog work but realize that the dog likes to taste a little fur from time to time. Also, if you practice good sportsmanship and are the law-abiding type, you're relieved that you can take game in moderation and be legal about it at the same time.
There isn't much of a reason to take a lot of game nowadays from an economic standpoint. When the market was good a good harvest meant a little extra jingle in the jeans of the hunter, especially with the holidays just around the corner. My dad used to tell of the days when he sold possum hides for 60 cents, preparing them and shipping them and anxiously awaiting the windfall of profit. I enjoyed loading my season's catch in the truck and heading down to Middlebury, Indiana to visit the buyer once a year when I lived in Michigan. It's all part of the sport we call coon hunting and now is the time to enjoy the harvest to the fullest.
I'm hunting a couple of Plotts and am looking forward to some good hunts this fall. My female Tory is fat and needs the conditioning that a week's hard hunting will provide. Hoss the pup will be 2 years old next month, the age that a dog graduates from pup to adult in my view. He's been doing pretty well and I'm looking forward to putting the finishing touches on him with this taking season.
Sitting at the computer at this time of year is a kind of torture that makes water boarding seem like a kidís time out to me. My feet are itching to get out there and crunch some leaves and shine some trees. How about you?