What does your nickname mean????
#273
#274
#276
My dad tried to trade my brother for a Bluetick pup but the other guy wouldn't take him. Too bad. My brother tortured me for years. We had a few coonhounds that looked like the pictures I see of Treeing Walkers. I know one dog was a brindle color Plott Hound but never knew what the other 3 were. They all lived in a dog pen behind the garage and for years our next-door neighbor didn't even know we had dogs. I wish the idiots in my neighborhood cared enough to make their dogs stop barking, but they don't give a damn about anyone other than themselves.
#277
#278
My dad always took me and my brothers coon hunting when we were kids. The four dogs would hunt together and talked to each other a little bit, but when they had a coon treed they let you know it, and there was no doubt about it. When we got to the tree a couple of dogs would be standing against the tree howling while the other dogs circled the tree sniffing. The kids' job was always to shine a flashlight on the coon so my dad could see their eyes shine and he'd pop them with a .22 pistol. Most of his Coonhounds may have actually been Foxhounds. All I know is they were some kind of scent hounds and he called them Coonhounds. These pics of an American Foxhound, Black and Tan Virginia Foxhound, English Foxhound, and Treeing Walker Coonhound all look a lot like them. Actually every one of them was probably a mutt of some kind, which I think are the best kind of dogs. All of his dogs were pups he got from a friend or brother he hunted with except the last one. He bought a registered Plott Hound and she was the dumbest bitch any one of us ever saw. She liked chewing on porcupines instead of hunting coons. He got so tired of this stupid dog that he gave it to my uncle. It didn't learn anything from his dogs either. One day my dad borrowed the dog from my uncle and when he came back from hunting the dog didn't. He was so disgusted with her stupidity that he shot her in her brainless head and left her in the woods. I'm sure the coyotes appreciated the free lunch. My uncle didn't seem to care that my dad shot his dog either. He had a pen full of hunting dogs that actually hunted.