COONEY BOY 2

 

This post is shared at “Tell Me a True Story.”

My Continued Story will resume very soon 

 

Old Blue



 

 

Having been thrown back to my country childhood roots, some years ago I bought some Blue Tick Coonhound pups.  Then of course I had to train them to go night hunting.

 

I hooked up with some other hunters, most of which I dropped due their lack of intelligence.  My pups grew quickly and started to do what Coon hounds do and that was to hunt.

 

The problem was they would hunt everything especially deer.  When they started to chasing a deer they would run for miles, and the hunt was over for the night.  Some hours later when the dogs came back we would go home very unhappy about the night’s event.

 

I really enjoyed hunting especially when they would get mixed up with a skunk. There was nothing better than to be washing dogs at 3 o’clock in the morning and having to smell skunk odor for the next few days.

 

In order to break my pups off of deer I bought a coon and kept him in a steel cage made of heavy steel rods and he was suppose to be my example of what they should be hunting for.

 

Old Cooney boy was consistent he hated everything and everybody.  He would rip your leg off if he got to you.  He let me know right off that he didn’t train dogs.  He was one mean sucker that you didn’t mess with.  Since I didn’t want my dog’s ears tore up I never let them get together.

 

I always thought if I could be as constant and unswerving in my Christian walk as Cooney was in his, I’d be a better man for it.

 

Cooney lived with us for quite awhile, and my step dad LD, always fed him.  After many months, LD could feed him without having to use a piece of plywood to pin Cooney in a corner while he filled his food bowl.

 

After a couple of years I decided Cooney boy wasn’t a mind to be tamed down so I took him up to the woods and let him go.  He walked a few feet away, turned, snarled and hissed at me and took off never to be seen again.

 

Those Blue Tick Hound pups loved to hunt.  One named Sugar died first but Ole Blue lived almost 15 years.  

 

Even when he couldn’t hardly get around he would still sneak off to hunt, and I would have to go looking for him. 

 

 

One day we went out to our kennel and found Ole Blue stiff as a board.  

 

I have had many dogs, but Ole Blue was my favorite,  because to me, he was very special, but that is another story.