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I want to publicly thank the Clays for allowing me to go bobcat hunting with them. It was my first time to bobcat hunt in over 6 years. What a great way to break a 6 year fast! It was so amazing hunting with a man who was hunting with dogs when my 81 year old father was 6 years old. Mr. Clay was breeding dogs for straight bobcat hunting before I myself was 6 years old. I have never hunted with dogs like that, in brush like that, with men like that. It was an experience I will never forget and thank them from the bottom of my heart for the opportunity.

These are fine, fine people and I can only wish everyone reading this could share in the same experience. I know that is not completely possible, but I wish it was. It is unbelievable to me that they are so open in sharing so freely what has taken so much time, money and dedication to achieve and understand. We do all get to go along with them as we read the writings of C. John Clay.

Special thanks to C John Clay for seeing to it that we were able to hear about Mr. E. Finney Clay. Your work is not unnoticed and much appreciated. Together the Clay team has brought some things to the bobcat hunting world that we would not have seen with out your willingness to share and work so hard at this.

Thank you, and God bless you and keep you, cause his face to shine upon you, be gracious to you, and give you peace.

David, great post. Andy

Great post David and it is truly realized how great they are to all that have had the privilage of listoning to the opry!

NICE!!!

just got off the phone with Carry he said u were impressed with the brush down there. can u let the people know how brushy it is compared to different areas u have been.

jc

Hey, I didn't mention that I got to be there for Mr. Clays 82nd birthday celebration on Sunday Feb. 12th!! Cary cooked rib eye steaks outside on the grill. That must be the best I have ever tasted. I can not imagine anything tasting better.

The brush. Hmmm. not even sure how to discribe it.

As I was on my way down, Cary called me to say they had lost their good rig dog and track dog Brandy. They were pretty sure she was dead, and he was hoping I could help with finding her. Right then, I felt a purpose in going there, and I hated the circumstances, but I determined that I would pray for Gods help in finding her so that Mr. Clay could at least have the peace of knowing and not wondering. I left my truck at a terminal and rented a car to drive in the rest of the way hoping for a miracle.

Cary knew that the Garmen button had gotten pushed off by brush as it had in the past, and he knew when it happened. They were discouraged, however, that the Johnson collar was no longer sending a signal. There are big holes out there though, dug by the terapin turtles, and dirt and slag piles left by the tree farming industry. They figured she must have gotten under something. She had been sick, but was showing a lot of spirit so they let her come on this hunt.

I could see myself out there all day looking and listening, and just walking and hoping and praying and looking for some kind of sign. I really was wanting to make myself useful and not just be a big burden on them.

Then I got my chance. We loaded dogs and drove to the place they last heard her. Cary had thought he might have heard her cry out at one point, and he thought that would have signaled a snake bite to the head, swelling the neck and choking her to death.

We looked for Vultures, and before we left there actually were a few milling about, but none showing a location.

Cary walked me out and showed me where he saw the bobcat disappear into a hole at the end of the race. There was amazing amounts of sign of hogs rooting, and a very active bobcat toilet site. It is funny, but I thought of Dewey and how he just always magically knows where animals went, or are going to go even before the animal does. I was just wishing I had that ability because I wanted to look at the area of the race and just know exactly where to go to find her.

Cary showed me the area the race had taken place in, and that is when I saw the area I would need to stroll around in so that i could be a hero and find Brandy's body. WOW. that is about all I can say: wow!

I always read about how brushy everyone thinks there hunting places are. Everyone likes to think their brush is thicker than anyone elses brush. Everyone wants to beleive that if you ever tried to fall down in their brush you would never be able to hit the ground. You know, the old: "my brush is brushier than your brush" complex.

Well, I am ready to concede. The Clays brush is brushier than my brush. In fact if my brushiest brush was to compete with the Clays brush for brushiness, me and my best brush aint even showing up for the game.

You have to understand. It is february and their brush has green leaves on it. their brush never dropped its leaves and has no intention of doing so. What that means is that their brush never ever takes a break from getting more and more brushy. Since the beginning of time, their brush has never stopped getting more brushy. You can not see fifteen inches into their brush. You can not push your foot through their brush, you can not push your hand through their brush, you could not push a stick through their brush. There brush has vines that grab you and will not let go and will not break. There is sword grass that will gladly cut you just because it is bored and has nothing else to do. There are palmettas that could catch a charging elephant and throw him backwards. Every thing has thorns for you to impale yourself on and hang your self on if you feel like suicide, which you will pretty soon if you dont already.

And this is where I am going strolling around to find Brandy? No thank you. Find your own dam dog.

No wonder their dog died. They sent her to hell.

If it is, in fact, hell (which I heavily suspect), and you are worried about going there, I got good news for you: YOU CANT GET IN

If you think you really want to get in, take five guys with machetes and a couple guys with chain saws so they all can take turns once an hour after the guy ahead of them got himself twenty inches into the stuff.

Oh, I forgot to mention.
We came back everyday looking for vultures or other signs of Brandy. Once we got her signal slightly and tried to hone in on her for awhile. Then we realized one of the other collars had not responded to the magnet for shutting it off, and was bleeding over to her channel.

Did we ever find her? Hmmmm. Maybe. More later...

There, I feel better after a little sleep. I figured I better let you know about Brandy. I never know when the next time will be that I can get on here. I dont have too much time but will try.

I hope you know I was kidding about not being willing to go in there. In fact, I showed a willingness to do it, and if Cary had any doubts left about me being an idiot, they were removed at that moment. He kept mentioning about snakes, but I was not afraid. I could see there was not enough room in that tangled mess for a snake to get his mouth opened. But it would have been complete futility. If I felt like I knew exactly where she was I would have cut my way in with a pocket knife at mid day, while holding a flashlight to light up the cave I was making. But there just was no going in there to look around. You could be right next to her and not be able to see her. How those dogs could ever find a bobcat in that stuff is a complete mystery. I have watched bobcats flatten out behind almost nothing and completely disappear. I have seen them squat in much less cover and have the dogs poke around very close to it and never find it. It was amazing to me that those dogs could get one out of that stuff. They are not small dogs either.

I sure felt foolish thinking of all my words about staying with your dogs. It would have been humanly impossible in the middle of that section. The weird part is, when driving the road, you almost never see what it is really like in some of those spots like where Brandy was last heard.

We were stopping any one we encountered on the road to let them know we lost a dog and please contact us if you find her. Then, one night we might have hit the right one. Some one might have realized they had made a bad mistake. The next morning Cary got a call from the high school football coach and he had Brandy. Both Collars were gone. Only her name plate collar remained and Cary said it was a couple notches looser than the way he keeps it on her. She looked healthy and unlike a dog that had been wandering around the roads for a few days. Some one had been keeping her and turned her loose near the school that morning.

So all the prayers about finding the body of Brandy were answered. I had no part in finding her, but it sure felt good to helplessly watch it happen. I was thinking about the huge miracle it would be to find her lifeless body. This was not what I had been thinking, and it was as if she had been raised from the dead. It felt pretty good.

I hope this answers your question about the brush JC

Thanks again to Mr. C. John Clay, and Mr E. Finney Clay. I will never forget your kindness, generosity and hospitality. And I will never forget those dogs. I know I sound like a broken record, but I wish I could have seen this 25 or 30 years ago. My hound dog life would have been much different if I had. I don't know when or if I will get situated to hunt cats again. But if I do my search for the right dogs will be much better informed.