Cotton Tales # 1

I work for the Oklahoma Department of Agriculture in their Forestry Services. I am a Forest Resource Technician (Forest Ranger Crew Chief) and my primary job is wild land fire prevention and control. On this particular day, my partner had taken the day off and I was kind of at loose ends. Recent rains had decreased the fire danger and I didn't have much to do on the job. I had thought about just taking the whole day off and spending it in the field with my dogs.

I decided to take an all female crew on this day. I selected my oldest female, Kiss' Blue Maggie to lead the pack and Nichols' Misty Blue because of her ability as a jump dog. I rounded out the foursome with two nine month old pups out of Maggie and my older male Nichols' Blue Buckshot. One of the pups is a liver and Red tick and I call her Ginger. The other pup is a pretty Blue tick with an almost solid black back. I named her "Molly" later one and she was the subject of a previous story on this web site.

I had already picked out a spot for us to hunt. It was about ten miles southwest of my home in Clayton, OK. It is located in the river bottom along the Kiamichi River in an area known as Pine Spur. The property belongs to some friends of mine. I have been hunting there for many years and it usually had good numbers of both cottontails and swamp rabbits. I had not been into this particular place yet this season and was anticipating a good hunt.

I was hoping that we could access the spot by crossing the river at an adjacent ford, but we were surprised when we arrived at the ford and found the water a little too high to cross. There is another way to get to this property that involves driving an additional five or six miles. We would have to drive down the river to a bridge and then back up the other side. After a very bumpy ride over the last two miles we finally arrived at our destination.

After talking to Wayne earlier that morning I had called back and asked his wife to remind him to bring his rubber boots. I told her that we would be getting into a lot of water where we were going. She said jokingly that Wayne could not swim and I said, "I don't plan on getting into that much water". As we were getting our gear on and preparing to head out from the truck, I noticed that Wayne was wearing his regular leather hunting boots. I had seen him throw his rubber overshoes into the back of the truck earlier. I reminded him about his boots and he said, "Oh, I think that these will be all right. They are pretty waterproof" I nearly always wear high top rubber boots over a couple of pairs of thick socks. I like to hunt the bottom lands and there is usually plenty of water to contend with. Wherever you find swamp rabbits you will find water close by.

We planned to start hunting around the edge of a large pasture that lays along the river. Immediately to our left was an area of five or six acres, that was situated in the bend of the river, with a fairly deep channel that the river had cut across it many years ago. It is covered with timber and switchcane and usually has a few swamp rabbits in residence. I didn't plan on going into that area but, I knew that if we jumped a rabbit anywhere near it that he was likely to head there for cover. I wanted to hunt some brier patches and thickets scattered along the edge of the meadow. I knew that if we got a rabbit race going that we would at least be able to see it every now and then and have an opportunity to get a shot. I wanted Wayne to have a good change to get one.

We had gone about a hundred yards along the edge of the pasture and the dogs were investigating a thicket of sweet gum saplings and saw briers. Misty let out a squall that said, "I've found something" and the other dogs responded to her immediately. They all liked what she had found and expressed their feelings very noisily. They headed straight for the switch cane on the cutoff and all of them were sounding off every time their feet hit the ground. They were running so hot that I thought that they were running a deer. Whatever they were running took them to the far end of the cutoff and began to circle. I decided about then that it had to be a rabbit. They circled a couple of times and make a loss or two but, only momentarily. Once they got the rabbit race underway Maggie took over the lead and her machine-gun chop mouth fairly made the woods ring. Wayne and I took up positions along the top of the bank overlooking the channel between us and the cutoff. The dogs were still running as hot as I had ever heard them run. It sounded like they were sight running but I knew that the rabbit had to be too far ahead of them to be seen. I told Wayne to keep a sharp lookout well ahead of the dogs because if it was a swamp rabbit it could be fifty to a hundred yards ahead of them. About that time I heard the dogs turn and start back toward us. I felt sure that one of us would at least get to see the rabbit and I was hoping that it would be Wayne.

Just as I figured, the rabbit was well out ahead of the dogs when it crossed the channel down in front of us. Neither of us could see it yet because of the switch cane. The smaller pup with the black back happened to be out ahead of the other dogs and she found where the rabbit had crossed the channel. I could see her when she struck the trail and had to laugh when she opened up frantically and tore out across the creek and up the bank toward Wayne. The other dogs were right behind her and I knew that one of us was going to see the rabbit just any second. About that time I head a loud "Boom" and then a second "Boom" coming from Wayne's direction. Wayne was carrying a Model 110 twelve gauge with #6 shot.

I yelled "did you get him?" Wayne proudly said "I sure did". I climbed back up the bank and went to him. He was holding a big swamp rabbit and smiling. He said, "Maybe I shouldn't have shot him that second time but, he was trying to crawl off". I said, "Sometimes it's better to make sure. Although I usually just let the dogs catch them if they are just trying to crawl off. It does the pups a lot of good to get to feel and taste what they have been chasing".

We sacked the rabbit up and started on up through the thicket. We had hardly gotten started when Misty opened up again off to our right. Maggie and the two pups went to her as fast as they could get there and another race was underway. Maggie again took over the lead and they were pushing the rabbit hard. This one went the opposite direction from the first one and crossed an old road and went into another thicket with a stream running down the middle. This rabbit acted like he was an old hand at evading anything that might want to eat him. He circled a time or two in the thicket using the water to his advantage. The dogs would lose him for a few minutes at a time. Sometimes Maggie would find him first and sometimes it was Misty. The rabbit finally sneaked all the way to the other end of the thicket along the stream, slipped out across the old road and headed for the river or the cutoff. The dogs found where he crossed the road but, could never figure out where he went from there. We never got a look at this particular rabbit and after giving the dogs plenty of time to figure it out, I called them off and headed on up the edge of the pasture.

Let me digress a moment and talk about my dogs. Maggie, the leader of my crew on this day, is out of Jeff Kissinger's Red Lightning dog and her dam is Fireball Country Blue. I bought her from a friend of Jeff's who said that he had not hunted her very much because she was too fast for the rest of his dogs. When I started hunting with her I could see that she had not been hunted much. She would hunt some but, she would not always honor the other dogs and could not circle a rabbit on her own. I was disappointed with her but, I decided to be patient (something that is hard for me) and give her some time to improve. She did improve before the season was over and now I have had her for fours seasons. She has gotten better every season and I am very pleased with her. The backbone of my kennel is Nichols' Blue Buckshot. I bought him from Jeff as a puppy. He is out of Morning Star Blue Buck and Mitchell's Charlet. He started young and was still getting better. I liked him so well that I told Jeff that I wanted a female out of the next litter if he made that cross again. He called me the next year and said that he had a pup for me if I still wanted a female. I immediately said that I did and a few days later I went up to Springdale, Arkansas and picked her up. I named her Nichols' Misty Blue. She also started young and circled her first rabbit at about six months of age. I bred Maggie to Buckshot twice and each time she had six pups. I kept one of the first litter for myself and sold the rest. I have checked on most of the pups. All of the buyers that I checked with were very satisfied with their pups. After checking with the buyers I decided to make the same cross again. I had been hunting the pups regularly and had not really tried to sell them. They are all doing very well. I was hunting two of them on this hunt.

The pasture that we were hunting around is about a half-mile long and we went all the way to the end of it before finding another rabbit. I put Maggie into a small brier patch in the edge of the field and she began to check it out. I could tell by her tail action that there had been a rabbit around there recently. About that time I saw a cottontail scoot out of the brush near her and head for another part of the patch. The rabbit ran out of the west side of the brier patch and almost over one of the pups. The pup opened up with much frantic bawling and the race was on. They circled that rabbit around and I was able to get a look at it but, it was too close to shoot. The rabbit circled a couple more times out in some large timber away from the meadow and managed to lose the dogs. I finally went in and caught Maggie and Misty and led them away from there and into another brier patch further out into the field. All of the dogs checked it out thoroughly and pronounced it rabbit free, so we moved on a short distance. We got into a blackberry thicket along the edge of the field and up against some bigger timber. I had killed rabbits on several occasions there. Sure enough, it wasn't long before Misty opened on another one and we had a race going. I suggested to Wayne that we ease out into the timber a little way where we could see and just wait on the dogs to bring him around. There was a lot of water standing in pools due to recent rains and the dogs had to really work after this one. I just knew that it was a swamper from the way that it was running, but when they finally pushed him around to me, it turned out to be another cottontail. He cut across in front of me and headed in a direction that would have taken him well out in front of Wayne. He was traveling a high rate of speed and my first shot had no apparent effect except to speed him up a little. With my second shot I hit a tree dead center and finally rolled him up with the third shot. I was using my Winchester Model 1400 12 gauge with high brass #7 1/2 shot.

The next and last rabbit that we ran pulled a sneaky on us. We had crossed a very wet area and were checking out more blackberry briers along the edge of the field. We had gotten almost through this area when Misty opened again. The dogs were all together at this time and after a very short run in the briers they came out into the open field. I didn't think that the rabbit could have gone there without us seeing him but, they continued to trail him farther and farther into the field. There was another huge blackberry and green brier patch over a hundred yards from us across the field and this was where the dogs were headed. They got into the thicket and began to circle the rabbit. I told Wayne to stand there in the area where the dogs had first jumped the rabbit and I would move over to the north far enough to be out of his way. The rabbit had ideas of his own though, and continued to circle and get further away from us each time. We waited there for almost a half-hour and I finally decided to ease over toward the thickets where the rabbit was circling. I called to Wayne and suggested that he move up closer to the same place that I was headed. We moved up closer and waited for awhile just knowing that we would be seeing the rabbit momentarily.

By this time it was getting close to four in the afternoon and the temperature was dropping. Wayne's feet had become thoroughly soaked and he was miserable. He came over to me and said that he needed to go to the truck and warm up. I said, "I'll catch the dogs and go with you". He said, "No, I don't want to spoil your chances of getting this rabbit. You go ahead and stay here and I'll wait on you in the truck". I gave him my truck keys and he headed back down across the meadow. I moved on up to where I could see the dogs and they were having a little trouble figuring out just where OLE' Bugs had gone. It was about this time that I decided that the warm truck seemed like a good place to be. I caught Maggie and Misty and headed out after Wayne. The pups were still working on the rabbit and were not ready to go. The dark one soon caught up with me and Ginger showed up shortly before we reached the truck.

Those of us who hunt rabbits with Beagles know that sometimes you have a day where nothing seems to go right almost from the "git go". Any number of things can go wrong and usually will. You may have a flat tire on the way to the field or in your driveway. Your best dog may have an irresistible urge to run "off game" right out of the dog box and will take the rest of the pack with him, etc., etc. You rabbit hunters know what I mean. If someone came along about that time and just looked like they wanted some dogs you would give them the whole pack.

On the other hand, the next time that you go afield everything is as if you lead a charmed life. The dogs are full of vim and vigor. They jump out of the dog box and land on rabbit which they run like they were Grand Rabbit Champions. As soon as you have harvested that one they have another up and going and so it goes for the duration of the hunt. You, of course, are in top form also and make amazing shot after shot. It seems like you just can't miss. The only fly in the ointment on a day like this is the fact that you are hunting alone and no one can witness the great performance of you and your dogs. But, come to think of it, that leaves a lot of latitude when bragging to your hunting buddies about it.

You may not have ever had a day like either of these but, if you rabbit hunt with Beagles long enough you will surely have one or more that are very similar. I recently had a day similar to the latter one that I described and I have had several that were like the former. These things just "go with the territory" so to speak. That is what makes rabbit hunting with Beagles so interesting and enjoyable. No two trips are ever alike.

One of my old Beagle buddies, Vernon McCoy, and I recently planned a Saturday morning hunt. He had just acquired a new beagle named Hunter's Red Pepper and both of us were eager to see how he would hunt. I have a half-sister to this dog, named Nichols' Misty Blue. She is one of my best dogs. He asked if I had a good place to hunt and I told him that I knew of a good place out near Dry Creek that had a fair number of swamp rabbits in residence. We agreed to meet at my house at eight that next Saturday morning. I had to be back home in time to go to work at one o'clock. I work for the Oklahoma Department of Agriculture in the Forestry Services as a Forest Ranger Crew Chief. My primary job is wild land fire prevention and control. I would have to be on standby fire duty. A little after seven that morning he called to say that he would not be able to go. He had to take his little granddaughter for an unexpected visit with the doctor. After calling another friend who had a prior commitment I decided to go alone.

I had to park my truck and unload the dogs on the side of a busy highway which makes me more than a little nervous. On this trip I took three of my blue ticks, Kiss' Blue Maggie, Nichols' Misty Blue and Nichols' Blue Ben. Maggie is approaching five and is a pretty fair jump dog. She has a fast chop mouth and usually doesn't open it until the trail is hot. Misty will be three in June. She is the most cold nosed dog of my pack. She is the best jump dog and will nearly always get the trail straightened out when the other dogs have given up. She will squall sometimes but normally she has a fast chop mouth that she uses at every step. Ben is my only running male dog since I lost a beautiful nine month old male pup a few weeks ago. Ben will be two in April. He is fast and will usually lead the race but, he tends to overrun and lose the trail frequently due to his speed and inexperience.

I was hunting in the area where I lost a good young female blue tick last spring when my pack for the day ran something out of that area and into the Potato Hill Mountains over a mile away. This hunt almost had a similar beginning. I had put the dogs into a long thicket made of bushes, green brier and blackberry briers. I was waiting to see if there was a rabbit there when a big doe came sneaking of of the thicket. I knew that the dogs were very close and I expect Ben to open up any second. He is the one that I have the most trouble with about running "off game". I moved quickly and positioned myself between the deer trail and Ben. He opened up and came tearing out of the thicket on the deer's trail. I was right there almost on top of him and I yelled "NO" at the top of my voice. It startled him and he stopped and looked at me. Then he started back to the deer trail and I yelled at him again. This time he stopped and looked at me and then came to me with his tail down. I led him back to the thicket and encouraged him to get back in there and find a rabbit. About that time the other two dogs came out on the deer trail and began to show some interest in it. I yelled at them and after looking at me they both turned and went back into the brier patch. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I thought that maybe Ben was finally getting the idea.

The rabbit headed west down the thicket for a short distance and then took a left turn out into a hardwood bottom. This area is low and normally very wet through most of the winter. This time, though, it was fairly dry due to the lack of summer and fall rains. I worked my way through the narrow thicket and took up a position on the side next to the bottom and hoped that the rabbit would circle back my way. After a brief loss in the bottom the dogs started up again and began to really pound the rabbit. The dogs started to circle my way and about that time I saw the rabbit headed back to the thicket. He was going to be within gun range and I got ready for some action. I was shooting a single-shot twelve gauge that my children gave me for Christmas. My aim was good and the swamper started doing flip-flops. The three dogs were right there almost immediately. I dropped him in the game bag and started on down alongside the thicket, encouraging the dogs as I went.

We had only gone a short distance when Misty opened to announce that she had found another one and the race was on with she and Ben hot on the trail. Maggie had gone back and was trailing around out in the bottom where the first race had occurred. She harkened in to them and they headed north toward an old railroad bed that parallels the highway where I had unloaded the dogs. I had never had one head in that direction and I was worried that they would get out on the highway. They went over the railroad bed and made a lose. I could neither see nor hear them and every second increased my anxiety about their nearness to the highway.

About the time that I decided that I would go to them, I looked and saw two of them trailing around on top of the railroad bed. They were working back and forth and I couldn't tell which two were there. Then Ben opened to say that he had found the trail back to my right up the railroad bed. He bawled a couple of times and Maggie went to him. When she got there the race warmed up fast and then I saw another swamper headed back toward the thicket. He was coming at an angle to me and I saw that he would be in gun range about the time that he hit the thicket. I drew a bead on him and shot just as he went into the thicket. I couldn't tell whether I hit him or not but, I felt like I had made a good shot. Maggie and Ben came on through and Misty was frantically trying to catch up. She ran up to part of an old net wire fence and had to backtrack to find a way through. Meanwhile the other two dogs had gone through the thicket and quit barking. I knew that they had either made a lose or found the rabbit. I followed Misty through the thicket and found the rabbit just inside the edge of the bushes on the far side.

I was feeling pretty proud of the dogs and myself by this time and I envisioned getting my legal bag limit of three swamp rabbits this day. I petted and praised the dogs for a good job and headed across the little bottom to some more thickets that are in the lower end of a big meadow near the Kiamichi River. Sometimes the rabbits will run from the thickets along the riverside and across the hardwood bottom and into the other thicket that I had just come from. On some hunts, there in the past, the old swampers would lead my dogs on this route and somewhere along the way they would lose them. There are several holes in the large oak trees that are out in the bottom and the rabbits know where all of them are. The river bank has many holes and hiding places along it which they are very familiar with. It is a pretty challenging place for both dogs and hunters. I hunt that area mostly by myself and if I see the rabbits at all they will usually either be too close or too far away for a shot. They like to cross the open meadow at a narrow point and I would usually be in the wrong place. I have found, probably like most hunters, that when you hunt alone you are frequently in the wrong place. If you change locations the rabbit will cross very near or exactly where you just moved from. If you will just find a place where you have a good view of the area near where the rabbit is jumped and stay put, most of the time, you will stand a good chance of getting a shot at it. Staying put, though, is sometimes hard to do.

I decided that I would change my strategy this time and just take up a position out in the edge of the open meadow where they had crossed on previous hunts. It took the dogs a little while to find one in this new thicket but, soon Misty opened. It took her a few more minutes to get it straightened out. I could tell that the trail had warmed up considerably when both Maggie and Ben began to chime in and the three of them headed up toward the wide part of the thicket. The rabbit circled a time or two and then slipped out of that thicket and across a narrow grassy area and into another brier patch under some big pines.

I figured that he would go on through there and across the open meadow and into the hardwood bottom but, the dogs lost him and began to circle. Maggie and Ben (mother and son) got off back into the original thicket and Misty, following her usual habit, came back around where they had lost the trail and began working on it again. Maggie began to yip again and I knew that she had found a rabbit. She and Ben headed toward the river after this one. About that time Misty found the trail of the first rabbit and opened up. She headed across the open meadow and into the bottom.

I didn't quite know what to do. I have had this happen before and I ended up getting neither rabbit. When Maggie and Ben headed toward the river I moved up to where they had jumped the rabbit and waited. They lost the trail temporarily and I decided to move out into the open meadow again where I could possibly get a shot at the one that Misty was after. She kept working on it and began to head southwest alongside the meadow. I knew that if she continued in that direction that the rabbit would probably cross out of gun range.

Sure enough, another big swamper popped out of the grass at the opposite side of the meadow from me and ran into the bushes at the far end of it. While Misty was after this one, Maggie and Ben had found the trail again and had pushed their rabbit into the thicket under the pines. Their race got so hot that Misty left her rabbit and went to them. They rabbit turned and went back into the area where Maggie had jumped it. They made a lose and after giving them a few minutes, I caught Misty when she came out near me. I led her back around to where I had last seen the other rabbit and put her on it's trail. She opened immediately and it wasn't long before Maggie and Ben showed up to help her. When they joined in, the race really got hot and back toward the river they went.

I took up a position out in the lower end of the meadow near where I had put her on the trail. The rabbit made a circle and came back into the thicket under the pines. I figured that he would come out across the meadow and head for the bottom if they continued to push him like they were doing. I was using field load 7 1/2s and I switched to a high brass shell just in case I needed the extra range. I don't use the maximum loads very often in that gun because it tends to get blood on both ends when I do. I guessed right for once and the rabbit came tearing out of the thicket and headed across the meadow giving me a broadside shot at about thirty yards. I led him just a little and at the sound of the shot he crumpled momentarily and then disappeared into the grass and briers at the edge of the thicket. At about the same time that the rabbit disappeared the dogs appeared out of the thicket across the meadow and came barreling along the trail. They went into the bushes where the rabbit had gone and hushed. I moved up to see what was about to happen. I knew that there are a lot of holes and hiding place around there for a wounded rabbit. When I got to where I could see into the briers I saw the swamper lying just inside them next to the meadow. He had been able to run just far enough to make it into some cover before collapsing.

My brother Jim and I bought our first beagles over thirty five years ago. I have owned some continuously since the early eighties after my children and I found a young female hung up in a fence near our home. We brought her home, nursed her back to health and since she had no collar or other identification I decided to keep her. I consider myself to be fairly knowledgeable about the little rabbit hounds but, every now and then I am surprised by some of the things that they do. I would like to tell you about one of those times when I was surprised and very moved by one of my "so called" dumb animals.

In the summer of 1998 I raised a litter of puppies out of two of my dogs, Kiss' Blue Maggie and Nichols' Blue Buckshot. I sold all of the pups except for a male and a female. The female was a dark blue tick with a pretty red head. She started young and was going with the older dogs almost from the first day that I took her out. She was very energetic and had that drive and desire that you don't often see. In March of 1999 she was about 11 months old. I named her Nichols' Blue Molly and sent her registration papers to the American Kennel Club.

A few days after I sent her papers in I took her on a hunt along with her sire Buckshot, her brother Ben and a sister to Buckshot, Nichols' Misty Blue. Misty was carrying pups at the time. I took them out to an area along the Kiamichi River that is east of my hometown of Clayton, Oklahoma, a distance of approximately eight miles. It consists of meadows, hardwood bottoms and a large swampy area. It tends to be very wet for most of the winter. I had hunted this area several times and found it to be the home of both cottontails and some very smart swamp rabbits. I was looking forward to some good races and to perhaps bagging a rabbit or two.

I am a Forest Ranger Crew Chief with the Oklahoma Department of Agriculture, Forestry Services and March is historically our busiest time of the year. My primary job is wild land fire suppression. I accumulate a lot of compensatory time due to the long hours that we spend on standby fire duty or actually fighting fires. I am usually able to take a morning off whenever the fire danger will permit and I do a lot of that during rabbit season. Normally I am not able to plan very far ahead as to when I will be off work so I have made arrangements that enables me to load the dogs and take off on short notice. I always have to plan on being back in time for fire duty.

The dogs and I had just gotten started with our hunt and were well out into the swampy area. I had put them into a long thicket of bushes and blackberry briers. They had jumped one rabbit and ran it for a short distance before losing it in the water. Then one of them opened up again and I thought that they had found the trail but, little did I know what was about to happen. They all converged on the hot scent and made a beeline up through the bottom parallel to an old railroad bed and the highway, They ran almost straight away for about a quarter of a mile and then took a sharp left turn across both the railroad bed and the highway and headed for the Potato Hill Mountains. I was just sick. By this time I knew that it was not a rabbit and I figured that it was either a deer or a coyote. I made my way out of the swamp and across the highway as quickly as I could. I checked the highway for dogs that might have been hit. When I did not see any on the highway I gave a sigh of relief and continued on up through another swampy area toward the hills where I could still hear the dogs headed. I finally made it through the water and across a county road and started climbing the hills. I would stop frequently for a breather and to blow my horn, trying to get them turned around. I was well up into the hills when I heard something behind me. I turned around to check and Misty was coming along behind. I leashed her and continued on after the other three. They would make a lose every once in a while and I kept hoping that they were headed back to me. They just kept on getting further and further into the hills and this "old fat man" kept getting more tired and frustrated. I finally had to turn around and head back to my truck so that I could get home in time for fire duty. I hated to leave them but, I had no other choice.

Later on that afternoon, I went back to the area and started looking for them. I stopped along the county road and listened to see if I could hear them running. The wind was blowing some and I had a little trouble hearing but, I thought that I could hear Buckshot running back to the west down the road. I drove on down that way to check and sure enough, I found Buckshot and Ben chasing a rabbit alongside the road. I quickly caught them and began looking for Molly. I felt sure that she would be with them but, after calling for awhile and driving the roads and listening. I finally decided that she had become separated from them somehow. She must have left them earlier and tried to follow Misty back to me.

This was just the beginning of a long effort to recover a fine young dog that I had come to value very much. I began going from house to house in that community which is called Kiamichi, after the nearby river. I think that I visited every house in the whole community over the next several days and I met some very nice folks. They would all promise to keep an eye out for the dog and call me if they seen her. Some did call and report seeing her and I would go to that area and look and call without success. I searched hard for a couple of days and then work prevented me from looking for a day or two. I would get another call or talk to someone in that area that thought that they had seen her. After four or five days I began to get reports that she had been seen along the highway between where I lost her and home. I would go to that area as quickly as I could and look and call for her. I did not expect that she would be able to come home from that distance due to her young age. Another couple of days went by and then it had been nine days since I had seen her. I figured that someone had picked her up or a coyote had gotten her.

The ninth day was rainy and about ten o'clock that evening I received a call from an old friend that is also a beagle man. He said that he had just returned home from the Friday night auction that is held here in Clayton. He said that he had talked with yet another beagle man who is a mutual friend of outs and of course they talked beagles. He said that our friend said that he had seen a young blue tick, female that fit the description of Molly, earlier that day about two miles from Clayton along the highway. He had tried to catch her and read her collar but, she wouldn't let him.

My first thought was to go and look for her. I finally decided that, since it was still raining, dark and cold, that she would probably be curled up somewhere out of the weather, and that I would go and look for her the first thing the next morning. I worried about her that night and the next morning I got in my truck and headed out to check the area where he reported seeing her. I was keeping a close eye on the highway, looking for her body. I knew that there was a good possibility of her being killed by a vehicle. I had gone less than a mile from town when I came to the Jackfork Creek bridge and when I got to where I could see the other end of it I saw the body of a dog lying in the right lane. When I got closer I could see that it was a blue tick and my heart sank. I pulled off the road and went back to where she lay. It was obvious that she had only been dead a short time since she was not completely stiff. I loaded her body into the truck and brought her back home to where she had been trying so hard to reach. She had made it to within a mile of home. I figured that she must have hesitated to swim Jackfork Creek, although she loved the water and enjoyed lounging in the kiddie pool at home. She must have been checking out the bridge when she was hit. I felt like kicking myself for not going out and looking for her after receiving the call the previous evening. They say that hindsight is 20/20 and I knew what I should have done.

I buried Molly on the back side of my yard, an area that is reserved for good dogs. I was more than a little sad for several reasons. First, I was sad that the "little rascal" had tried so hard and overcame so many obstacles in a valiant but, futile attempt to come home. Secondly, I was sad that she and I would never get to see just how good she could become. Thirdly, I felt like I had let her down. Lastly, I was sad because I guess that I am just a sentimental old beagle man.