May Florida Update II
Well Folks, as I said in a previous post the Famine has turned into Cat Hunting Feasting….at least for a little while. After having a hard time finding tracks that we could run, starting Wednesday morning our luck has changed for the better.
I posted some clips of the GREAT Race we had just at daylight Wednesday…now here is the Tale of the Hunt!
Dad and I had headed South about 7:30 Tuesday night and killed our 4th Rattlesnake of this trip just as we headed into the Club.
We then started rigging and hunted hard for 4 hours then struck a Cold track (could have been warmer than we thought as scenting conditions have been the pits…on this night the ground was steaming as the ground was warmer than the air, which was not cool just cooler than the ground). Corky was able to move the track to the South with help from Brandy and Rip. Choc and Cherokee were also able to help move the track, but barking from any Hound was rare!
Just as the Hounds were about to trail out to a main Rd, they turned and headed back East trailing through a bad Swamp. The trailing got better so I put out the rest of the Hounds to get some experience. The track was improving right along and had moved over three miles. Chic then let loose her SCREAM to tell us and the world that the Shortail was jumped and running…only problems was it was running right out of this Club!
We hauled ass around to the border line road of the Club and some Private land that does not allow Hounds. The Pack was roaring our way in Full Cry! Ole Rip, Sandy and Corky managed to turn the Cat and for the next twenty minutes the pack ducked and dodged the Cat in a Cypress Pond just off the Club Rd. Then QUIET! The Garmin showed all the Hounds in a wad with the Tree Icon showing but no barking at all.
Well…..was the Cat up….was he in a Hole….was he hiding under a log in the water? After 10 minutes or so Dad said to blow em out and we would go find another. As Corky was coming to the truck he found the Cat slipping out of where it had been hiding. He bellowed out his find and ran the Cat across the road right behind the truck. As the Pack harked to him, I sat down on the truck horn and was able to load every Hound in less than 5 minutes. Maybe next time we can hold this ole Tom Cat in our Club and remove his escaping Genes from the Gene pool.
This was the 1st of eleven Cat that we put down on over the next 14 hours.
Cat number five was a hard strike right on the boundary line road between these two Southern clubs, right on a major drainage canal. Corky, Cherokee and Choc got the track off the road and were making slow progress with the trailing. I sent ole Rip in to help heat the track up, but he was not able to help a lot…the track was just too old.
Dad and I both thought that the track was about to play out when Buck and his sister Brandy screamed out that they had found where the Shorttail had gone to bed! All the other Hounds were quick to Hark to them and the Race was on….another ACID Rock tune, this Race sounded like something Uncle Ted Nugent would have composed and played.
The Pack came right to the road we were on….we just missed seeing the Cat, but the pack was right behind him. Most of the Hounds were barking twice every time their feet hit the ground…WOW what a racket the pack was making….then that sound we HATE! That nothing sound…just quiet.
For the next thirty minutes the Hounds looked every which way. This Cat had used the famous “Beam me up Scottie” trick to escape. We theorize that the Pack was right on its ass as it hit the road, the Cat decided that to live it had better climb one of the big gum trees right next to the road. These Gum trees were fully leafed out so finding the Cat was impossible unless you know the exact tree it was in. I blew the horn and loaded the Hounds and went to look for another.
About 3:30 am Dad decided that he had had enough, by then we had put down on 8 different Cat. I told Dad that we should hunt home through the Home club as the Garmin said that 4:30 AM to 6:30 AM was the PRIME movement time for Game for the Day. He responded that what ever I wanted to do was fine with him as he was going to put the seat back and take a little nap. I turned into the Home club, went to the road I wanted to hunt 1st then joined Dad for a short nap.
After this brief (15 min) break I put the Rig Dogs up and it was back to hunting. Over the next hour and a half we hit two tracks that the Hounds could not trail…to old….or poor scenting conditions, we could not tell!
We turned down the Rd that leads home and there was a Logging Crew loading a truck across the clear-cut. The Rig dogs began buggar barking at the lights and noise of the Crew working. I kept driving and Dad was hollering at the Hounds to shut up. All of a sudden the barking changed from buggar barking to “We Smell a Bobcat” barking. I got out and found a smoking fresh track going right up the road. The work crew must have scared this Cat out of her bed.
I put the Hounds down and they took the track 1.3 miles up the road then turned left and went ¾ of a mile up the next road before finding where the Cat turned into the Plantation. When they left the road the RACE was on. This was the “Opry” at its best…for the next hour plus 15 minutes the Dog Feed got cheaper and cheaper. Rip was singing his Tenor, Rivers and Texas were the Baritones Corky and Choc sang Bass, the bitches were all singing the chorus in their Sopranos.
We could hear all of this when Cimarron would shut her Screaming Baritone Chop that literally drowns out the other Hounds mouths. She is fast becoming the Hound her big sister name sake was before her untimely death!
Race heading for a road crossing!
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Up and down the ditches, back and forth across the roads….WOW what a Race. Dad was not ILL or TIRED anymore. As the video clips showed he was walking up and down the road, harking the hounds on to where the Cat would cross then stand there and SOAK up the Music!
Hounds crossing behind Cat, then Cat crossing back across the road.
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We watched the Cat cross the road over 12 times, the Race was never further than 200 yards away. Our seats were the best in the Opry House as this was a Full Sensory experience. Seeing the Cat…Hearing the Hounds solve all her tricks….listening to the young Hounds learn their Craft….man it just does not get any better than this!
Dad putting Big N Blues Cricket right on the Cat!
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Race leading up to the final bay!
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Finally the pressure became too great and the Cat went to squatting in the ditch next to the road. I went for the truck to try and load the Hounds to save her for another day….but while I walked up the road Texas and Rivers bellowed out that I was too slow…the Race was over. Brandy and Cimarron bayed for a few minutes, but it was too thick and the water too deep for a retrieve.
We loaded up and headed home. On the way Dad commented that he sure felt better….that the Cat Hound therapy was sure working.
We rested all day then loaded up the B-team and headed back south. We rigged out through the home club but had no luck. Upon arrival at the location where I put up the Rig Dogs in the Southern Clubs, I was going to hunt up one road, but Rita had other ideas.
As I put her out to whiz before going on top, she and Brandy headed up the left hand road. I stepped into the truck to blow the horn when Dad said lets just hunt that way. We followed them about a ½ mile then put Rita, Brandy, Buck and Texas up on top. We turned onto what we call Mr. Jim’s Rd (this is the Rd where we had the great Race with Mr. Jim Moore from Texas) and traveled less than a mile when Rita let us know that a Cat had been here.
Dad said that it the strike sounded mighty weak, to drive on. I then turned onto the major North – South road in this Club, drove a short ways and Rita struck harder this time with Brandy helping to tell us that a Bobcat was in the neighborhood.
I put the Hounds down; Rita went up and down the road trying to find where the Cat had gone. Buck and Brandy could smell the Cat good right by the truck on Dad’s side. Rita opened down the Road. Buck and Texas went to her but Brandy went out into the Swamp right where we were.
Rita was unable to smell the Cat anywhere but where she barked so I called her to me and sent her into where Brandy was, Buck and Texas followed. In a minute Rita opened with Brandy not far behind. Now started 40 minutes of the kind of trailing that we have been missing this trip to Florida, due to poor scenting conditions.
I put Cheyenne, Penny and Sandy out to help and they moved the Cat through the Swamp out to Mr. Jim’s Rd where Rita had originally struck, then across into another Swamp. Dad and I followed the action on the Garmin and were able to stay close on several secondary roads. It looked for a while like the Hounds were going to trail out too close to Hwy 19, but the Cat turned back South.
Suddenly Cheyenne and Brandy opened with a new intensity, telling us that the Cat was found and that the Race was on! The other Hounds joined in….Texas bawled out that the Cat had crossed back across Mr. Jim’s road. All the Hounds harked to him…this concluded the opening acts for this Concert….now the Music was playing the BEST.
Folks grab a seat and let me tell you about it! Let me set the stage a little…the night is perfectly clear….the humidity has gone down some (this allows sound to travel better as in heavy air hearing is hard) there is a Full Moon, and the Deep Woods Off is working on the Bugs! The truck has been moved for the last time, now the only walking to be done is from the tailgate (great for sitting and listening) to the Hood (great for leaning and listening)!
For the next Hour and Twenty minutes the “Opry” played as good as it possibly could! Now these Races in Florida with all the water that a Cat has to use can sound a bit raggedy, but when the Cat thinks that they have gained enough “Air” to try to slip out on the Pack, and the Pack finds them, the sound is just that solid “ROAR” that no one can describe….you just have to be there to feel it.
That is what this Sow Cat did. She would run down a ditch full of water….cross the road…..then up the other side in even more water. Then she would head out into a 5 year old Plantation, which is when the ROAR would commence….then back to the water, then cross the road, back up the ditch…then into the Swamp and another ROAR.
1st bayup of Sow Cat after 55 minutes.
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Texas and Cheyenne were the Hounds who played the swinging game finding the Cat when it would cross the road or head off on one of the brief forays away from the ditches. Rita, Penny and Brandy rooted the Cat out of the Jungle along the ditches pushing the Cat back into the road where the cycle would start again. Cimarron, Rose, Buck and Sandy were learning how to handle this much water…by the time the Race was over they had learned how to run in the water in the ditches and smell the Cat slipping along the tangle of Briers, Sawgrass and Palmettos.
Numerous times the Cat would stop and squat in this mess between the road and the ditch, Penny and Texas would bay hard, I would walk up and holler and the Cat would leave out for another circle.
We could tell the end was near so when Texas bellowed out that the Cat was in the water and wanted to fight, Dad said to blow the horn and try to load the Hounds. This was easier said than done, but with much horn blowing and shouting we had everyone but Buck and Rita. It looked like I was going swimming after all, but finally Rita came and Buck realized that he could not do much by himself.
Sow Cat in ditch after 1:40 Race.
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I showed Dad the Cat in the water and while she was panting heavily, being in the water we hoped that she would make it and be there to star in another performance of the “Cat Hound Opry”!
As we drove off Dad said “Son, a Race like that adds 5 years to my life, after these last two Races, Hell I just might live forever!”
Dad that’s alright with me!
C. John Clay
Dads Dogboy