Shy Low is a Treeing Walker Coonhound; she is just a little over a year old and has a beautiful bay when she is doing what comes natural for her, treeing coons. This in itself has beauty to it. When we get to the field I can feel the excitement from my dog as she does her hyper dance trying to get out of the box and to the woods. The nights are cool and I can hear the ripples of the water moving somewhere off in the swamp. The night sounds of the crickets, flood into my ears as my dog whines to be turned out.
Leashing her, I walk into the moon-lighted woods, until we reach the turnout spot. I unleash her and she tares off threw the woods in search of the scent of coons. I can see animals' silhouettes just on the outskirts of my vision as she hunts for her pray. I can hear her nose sniffing the ground hard for any scent that might lead her to a coon.
This is the waiting part of the hunt where your ears strain to hear. If you look around the woods and use your senses then the woods will talk to you. The moonsilver night dusting the top of the canopy will take your mind to a calming state: your cares of the day are gone and it is only you, your dog or dogs, and the coons. In this few moments you might hear the faint hoot of an owl letting you know that the woods are watching you too. The breeze flows around you, bring the musky sent of ground to your nose. The trees sway from the breeze and you can see a spider's web just a few feet away glistening from the moisture in the air. The babbling brook sounds in the distance lets you know that there is always movement in the woods. The night has a peacefulness all to its own. These things make me think that no matter what is going on in my life it can be fixed and my problems are small compaired to "Mother Nature's Forces".
The night rings from a bark, then another. Then the sweet sounds of that wonderful howl and chop let's me know that Shy Low has found her mark. Her song rings threw the woods as she howls at the stars.
Now it is my turn to work, Flooding the darkness with artificail light I turn my head gear on. The baying from Shy Low urges me on threw the mucky waters of our swamp. ( Climbing over fallen trees, sloshing threw the mud and muck of the swamp, and going threw a mess of thorns and pine thickets is a better workout than you can get from any gym.) My heartbeat can be heard in my ears as I reach my dog.
This has got to be one of my favorite moments of the hunt. To turn my light on high asn see those two questioning eyes look down on me from the branches above. This is when I am proud of my little dog. She is waiting on her reward and she knows she has done well. The most rewarding and content feeling washes over me to see that my dog has done well in her trining and I , along with some close friends, have trained her well.
Thanks to the guys who have showed me this sport and have and still are teaching me about it.
Kellie