The first hunting dog I ever owned was a stray beagle named Casey Jones, though “owned” is a relative term. I was 10 years old when the stray beagle showed up on my family’s doorstep, and at that age I thought of little else besides being in the woods hunting. Casey Jones had no collar and seemed rather thin, but he had a passion for chasing rabbits. Soon I did, too.
Casey Jones hung around for just a few weeks before eventually wandering off to parts unknown and was never seen again. In that short time, he’d left an impression on me, though, and listening to him run rabbits through the woods behind our house set the hook for a lifetime of hound hunting.
The stray beagle that took up temporary residence in our barn set me on a quest to own a rabbit dog of my own. I eventually found a local breeder that owned several hounds, and despite my having saved for over a year to buy a beagle, he gave me the dog that I wanted at no cost. It was worth giving me a good dog, he said, so that I would enjoy rabbit hunting, and he invited me to tag along with him once rabbit season arrived in November. He told me that owning one good hound would make me a beagler for life.
Were those words ever prophetic. Since that time, I’ve hunted on four continents and in dozens of U.S. states for a variety of game, but I still run rabbit hounds almost every day
