Hunting for raccoons: Part three

There are only a couple things bigger than fish tales, and you just might find them unfolding under the roof of a fur buyer’s place of business.

When Doug was a little boy, being given the opportunity to tag along to sell furs after several successful coon hunts was just about the best thing he could dream up. A wood stove in the center chased the chill away, and old men sat around it swapping stories. Within those stories, a fellow could find the best dog ever trained to hunt and the biggest raccoon to walk the Earth.

All these years later, he can still recall the unique scent of the place and the draw he felt to it. There was a light-hearted kinship among hunters unlike anything else he had experienced. The dogs he trained remain so clearly within his happy soul that he can name them all, even those that disappointed in the hunt.

He recalls with vivid detail the night his father let him shoot out his first coon, and with one single trigger pull, he was hooked.

Enriched life

The trajectory of his life has been enriched by the many friendships he struck through his love of coon hunting, crossing the generations and encompassing many varied walks of life. His relationships with farmers and landowners led to many friendships that remain a part of who he has become over his lifetime.

When we were newly married and pinching pennies, he traveled weekends to serve as a UKC field rep, serving as master of hounds at world championship qualifying events. With this small stipend, along with sales of fur, Santa had some help in providing a nice Christmas for our family.

Through his training of dogs and networking with many people in search of the best, he landed a great job created for him, and our lives have been better for it.

Dog stories

Through it all, the stories live strong within him. It is there the dogs live on. He still feels the pang of their first really good dog, named Tardy, lost when he was a young boy, hunting with his brother one night. One minute the dog was opening on a track, the next minute, silenced and never again seen.

There was the heartbreaking death of the legendary dog, lost to the road when a hot track rendered an otherwise brilliant Black and Tan oblivious. A few years later, another incredible dog, taken while out hunting, was recovered through his unwavering drive to bring it home.

Sharing experiences

I recall the dogs given to younger, less fortunate rookie hunters who deserved the break, and the dog he let his father and his life-long friend hunt, re-igniting their joy in the sport late in life. He loves the woods and wants to share the experience of that interesting and peaceful place with people of all ages.

He has taken many young kids along on hunts in hopes of showing them the joy found within a world few experience in today’s busy lives. The thrill of the hunt may have long ago been the driving force that made him a coon hunter but is, in the end, only a small part of the big picture of what defines the man I married many moons ago.