A Fire, Some Hounds, and Some Old Memories

I had finished setting up camp and was waiting on my friend, Robby Toney, to arrive. We were camping in the Sunflower WMA in the Mississippi Delta for three nights, and the whole trip was going to be filled with coon and squirrel hunting.

The tent was pitched, the fire was going, and my dogs were tied out relaxing before we headed out for a coon hunt that night. I was sitting by the fire in my chair, halfway dozing off, when Libby started barking. There was a truck parked near our campsite, so I figured somebody was still out in the woods hunting.

Not long after Libby started barking, an older man came walking in. It wasn’t quite dark yet, really just getting to the best time for deer hunting. He said he was too old to walk out at night anymore, so he had come out early and was waiting on his son.

I could tell he was cold and tired, so I offered him a seat by the fire to warm up and rest a while. I really wasn’t prepared for what happened next.

Me and the old man started talking. He noticed I had two redbones and a cur dog tied out and asked about them. I told him about Sunny and what kind of dog she was and shared some memories we’ve made together over the last nine years. Then we talked about ole SOC and how much he reminds me of his sire, Charlie. Then we got to talking about Libby and how she’s just a good dog.

That’s when it got really good.

He told me he grew up in Kentucky and coon hunted when he was a younger man. I could see both sadness and joy in his eyes as he walked back through those memories. Listening to him talk, I felt like I was right there in those Kentucky hills with him as he reminisced about hunts from his younger days. He shared stories about competition hunts and how folks would get nervous when he pulled up.

As the fire cracked and the cool air blew through camp, I was reminded again how much I love this sport. These dogs that have brought me so much joy were able to bring this man back to memories he probably had tucked away deep in his mind and almost forgotten.

Robby finally arrived, late as usual, about the same time the old man’s son made it back to the truck. I shook his hand, told him goodbye, and wished them luck hunting.

He never expected to run into a young man sitting by a fire with his dogs that evening, and I never expected to run into him. But I sure am thankful I did. I’m thankful I got to sit and listen to the stories of a man who had plenty of life behind him and plenty of stories to tell. I’m thankful Robby was late and our evening squirrel hunt didn’t work out.

We hunted hard that week. Treed some coons and killed some squirrels. But honestly, that conversation around the fire is one of the things I’ll remember most from the trip.

Hopefully one day, when I’m old and can’t follow these dogs anymore, there will be a young man sitting by a fire that I’ll get to talk to. I hope he can see the sadness in my eyes that I can’t hunt like I once did, but also the joy those dogs brought me over the years. When I can’t hunt like I once could, I hope there’s a young man that wants to sit and listen as I relive my best hunts right there with him and his hounds.