Post by cajunhuntin on Mar 23, 2011 16:28:21 GMT -6
I know its not about lacy's but it is about dogs i'm hoping i'm not out of line posting it here! If i am just let me know and i'll delete it!
This is a story i wrote that got published in our Cajun Outdoors Magazine here in Louisiana. This story is a true story that my grandfather has told me it to me all these years! You can refer to Cajun Outdoors to see the pictures of Suga It saddens me to say we do have have any pictures of shorty himself!
The Story of
“Suga and Shorty”
Do you have someone in your life; you think knows every answer to every question in life? Well I have, and that person is my grandfather. He had hair the color of coal freshly lit, you know the kind, that is dark as night with a little white around the edges. He was the kind of person that with every wrinkle in his face, you could tell there was a life experience worth listening to. I have the privilege of hearing these experiences first hand, ever since I was old enough for my ears to open. One story sticks to my mind the most; it is the story of two tiny, hard running, and lovable beagles. They were two littermates my grandfather owned named Suga and Shorty. These two dogs have evolved my life into what it is today. He acquired these two pups by purchasing their mother at a field trail in the late 1970’s. Pa had been watching this 15” open marked ***** all day, and really took a liking to her. While speaking with the owner, he somehow convinced him to sell her for the ripe price of $400.00. This was an amazing price in that time period, but my grandfather was on cloud nine as he left the trial with his new hound, needless to say my grandmother was not to thrilled when he finally arrived home with the news.
Whitey was the first AKC registered hound he ever owned, so he was very picky when it came to finding a stud. A close friend of his had a very good 15” AKC male in the area; and allowed Pa to breed to him. As Pa explained it, the next sixty-two days went by as slow as a snail crossing a Louisiana highway in the middle of August. It took a while, but just as the snail made it to the other side, Whitey had her puppies. There were nine precious perky puppies, and after six weeks had flown by, Pa was able to sell seven of the nine puppies for $100.00 a piece. This made my grandmother a little happier then she was. The two puppies left were the smallest ones out of the entire litter. The girl was a beautiful tri-color with a short sunk in snout, he called this one Suga. The boy was a tough short stubby legged tri-color little guy, he called Shorty.
At four months of age the bodacious ten inch beagles were off to the starting pen. Three days went by with not a single word, but then on the fourth day, Pa received a phone call, it was the man from the starting pen asking him to please pick his puppies up. They were too good for his pen and needed to run in the wild. Pa arrived at the pen the very next day to watch his puppies’ progress. As they turned the hounds loose, it took no time for them to jump a rabbit. With Shorty leading Suga as fast as his little legs and nose could work. As the pups ran, three rabbits came in the lane to have a morning snack on a big pile of crunchy corn. All of a sudden, a huge rapidly running rabbit ran through the middle of the others eating. The two young hounds were about thirty yards behind and working steady, Pa said “this should be interesting.” The old man only said one word “watch”! These pups came right down the line pushing the same rabbit they had jumped through the next two brush piles, not letting any other rabbits bother them. Before reaching the truck the old man handed my grandfather his checkbook. He said “go ahead; write yourself out a check for that little male don’t worry any amount will clear.” My grandfather looked back and only said three little words, NOT FOR SALE!
Pa took his two prize pups home with an ample amount of anticipation towards hunting season. He ran the two hounds every day, making them better and better with every rabbit race. Then it finally came, opening day of rabbit season in south Louisiana. My grandfather and five of his closest friends decided to try a small tract of land; they called “The Farm”. After everyone loaded up and were ready to start hunting, they noticed two men walking towards them. As they came closer one of the men yelled, “might as well pack up boys, we been here all morning and our dogs never even jumped!” Everyone chuckled as the men left, but Pa was determined to show off his new hounds! In three hours the men had nine rabbits killed with only the two young hounds and one older gip. As Pa walked back to the truck he noticed Shorty was crying and running around his friend Harry. Harry yelled, “Edward, if you don’t come get this trash out of my feet I will kick the tar out of him!” Pa replied, “You kick, I shoot”! My grandfather yelled back, “There must be something near you, move and let that pup by!” As sure as Harry moved, ole Shorty jumped in a small pile of gra$$ behind him, and out jumped a surely surprised super sized swamp rabbit! After the men ended this last race with a bang, ole Harry picked up Shorty and carried him all the way back to the truck. He was claiming Shorty to be the best hound every made, all the way back!
Pa killed a ton of rabbits that year with Suga and Shorty, but the last hunt that season would turn out with a shivering surprise. My grandfather had just undergone his fifth back surgery when his friends bugged to go on the last hunting trip. So back brace and all, Pa agreed to go. Not only was his back a problem, but his dear sweet little Suga had been really sick for a week before. He decided to leave her at home, because she was too weak to go. That morning was a bad frosty foggy February morning. After a couple hours of running, Pa heard the pack heading his way. As he watched down the logging road, out jumped a small cotton tail. He told me, he actually thought about not shooting because of the rabbit’s small size. Then decided to end the race and fired! The thing he did not realize was Shorty had separated from the pack. The small hound was trying to fall back into the pack and crossed the road at the exact time my grandfather fired! Shorty had taken the full blow of a twelve gauge number six shot to the head. As Pa starred down the road at what had just unfolded in front of his face, the tears begin to find their way and fill his eyes. He even had to ask my father to go retrieved his collar from Shorty’s neck, because he could not handle the sight of what he had just done.
All the way home my grandfather never said a word. As he pulled into the driveway, there was a bad feeling in the air. Something was out of place, Then it hit him, none of the dogs were barking in the back yard. As he walked behind the house, He saw her. Suga was lying there, motionless on the floor of her cage. Seemed her sickness had taken her life sometime during the day. Still to this day my grandfather swears that she died at the exact moment her brother pa$$ed away. He told me there was something magical about those to hounds, and they were never meant to be apart.
This devastated Pa so much; he sold every hound he owned. When I came around, all he had left were the stories. The stories I treasured and still do to this very day. They fascinated me and gave me dreams of owning my own hounds one day. The day I turned eighteen, I answered an ad in our local paper about beagles for sale. I brought the most beautiful black and tan little male I had ever seen home with me. The first stop on my way home, of course, was my grandfather’s house. Playing with this small puppy in the living room, must have unlocked a ton of old feelings this old man had locked deep inside of him. From that very day it was not long before Pa purchased his own beagles again. Then we merged and started out very own kennel together. Now I can live my own stories with Pa to tell to my kids. After all this time has gone by Pa still claims one thing we’ll never do is own any hounds better the Suga or Shorty! Please remember this as your life goes by, Even if you do not own hounds anymore, anyone can still make our sport live on with just telling STORIES!
This is a story i wrote that got published in our Cajun Outdoors Magazine here in Louisiana. This story is a true story that my grandfather has told me it to me all these years! You can refer to Cajun Outdoors to see the pictures of Suga It saddens me to say we do have have any pictures of shorty himself!
The Story of
“Suga and Shorty”
Do you have someone in your life; you think knows every answer to every question in life? Well I have, and that person is my grandfather. He had hair the color of coal freshly lit, you know the kind, that is dark as night with a little white around the edges. He was the kind of person that with every wrinkle in his face, you could tell there was a life experience worth listening to. I have the privilege of hearing these experiences first hand, ever since I was old enough for my ears to open. One story sticks to my mind the most; it is the story of two tiny, hard running, and lovable beagles. They were two littermates my grandfather owned named Suga and Shorty. These two dogs have evolved my life into what it is today. He acquired these two pups by purchasing their mother at a field trail in the late 1970’s. Pa had been watching this 15” open marked ***** all day, and really took a liking to her. While speaking with the owner, he somehow convinced him to sell her for the ripe price of $400.00. This was an amazing price in that time period, but my grandfather was on cloud nine as he left the trial with his new hound, needless to say my grandmother was not to thrilled when he finally arrived home with the news.
Whitey was the first AKC registered hound he ever owned, so he was very picky when it came to finding a stud. A close friend of his had a very good 15” AKC male in the area; and allowed Pa to breed to him. As Pa explained it, the next sixty-two days went by as slow as a snail crossing a Louisiana highway in the middle of August. It took a while, but just as the snail made it to the other side, Whitey had her puppies. There were nine precious perky puppies, and after six weeks had flown by, Pa was able to sell seven of the nine puppies for $100.00 a piece. This made my grandmother a little happier then she was. The two puppies left were the smallest ones out of the entire litter. The girl was a beautiful tri-color with a short sunk in snout, he called this one Suga. The boy was a tough short stubby legged tri-color little guy, he called Shorty.
At four months of age the bodacious ten inch beagles were off to the starting pen. Three days went by with not a single word, but then on the fourth day, Pa received a phone call, it was the man from the starting pen asking him to please pick his puppies up. They were too good for his pen and needed to run in the wild. Pa arrived at the pen the very next day to watch his puppies’ progress. As they turned the hounds loose, it took no time for them to jump a rabbit. With Shorty leading Suga as fast as his little legs and nose could work. As the pups ran, three rabbits came in the lane to have a morning snack on a big pile of crunchy corn. All of a sudden, a huge rapidly running rabbit ran through the middle of the others eating. The two young hounds were about thirty yards behind and working steady, Pa said “this should be interesting.” The old man only said one word “watch”! These pups came right down the line pushing the same rabbit they had jumped through the next two brush piles, not letting any other rabbits bother them. Before reaching the truck the old man handed my grandfather his checkbook. He said “go ahead; write yourself out a check for that little male don’t worry any amount will clear.” My grandfather looked back and only said three little words, NOT FOR SALE!
Pa took his two prize pups home with an ample amount of anticipation towards hunting season. He ran the two hounds every day, making them better and better with every rabbit race. Then it finally came, opening day of rabbit season in south Louisiana. My grandfather and five of his closest friends decided to try a small tract of land; they called “The Farm”. After everyone loaded up and were ready to start hunting, they noticed two men walking towards them. As they came closer one of the men yelled, “might as well pack up boys, we been here all morning and our dogs never even jumped!” Everyone chuckled as the men left, but Pa was determined to show off his new hounds! In three hours the men had nine rabbits killed with only the two young hounds and one older gip. As Pa walked back to the truck he noticed Shorty was crying and running around his friend Harry. Harry yelled, “Edward, if you don’t come get this trash out of my feet I will kick the tar out of him!” Pa replied, “You kick, I shoot”! My grandfather yelled back, “There must be something near you, move and let that pup by!” As sure as Harry moved, ole Shorty jumped in a small pile of gra$$ behind him, and out jumped a surely surprised super sized swamp rabbit! After the men ended this last race with a bang, ole Harry picked up Shorty and carried him all the way back to the truck. He was claiming Shorty to be the best hound every made, all the way back!
Pa killed a ton of rabbits that year with Suga and Shorty, but the last hunt that season would turn out with a shivering surprise. My grandfather had just undergone his fifth back surgery when his friends bugged to go on the last hunting trip. So back brace and all, Pa agreed to go. Not only was his back a problem, but his dear sweet little Suga had been really sick for a week before. He decided to leave her at home, because she was too weak to go. That morning was a bad frosty foggy February morning. After a couple hours of running, Pa heard the pack heading his way. As he watched down the logging road, out jumped a small cotton tail. He told me, he actually thought about not shooting because of the rabbit’s small size. Then decided to end the race and fired! The thing he did not realize was Shorty had separated from the pack. The small hound was trying to fall back into the pack and crossed the road at the exact time my grandfather fired! Shorty had taken the full blow of a twelve gauge number six shot to the head. As Pa starred down the road at what had just unfolded in front of his face, the tears begin to find their way and fill his eyes. He even had to ask my father to go retrieved his collar from Shorty’s neck, because he could not handle the sight of what he had just done.
All the way home my grandfather never said a word. As he pulled into the driveway, there was a bad feeling in the air. Something was out of place, Then it hit him, none of the dogs were barking in the back yard. As he walked behind the house, He saw her. Suga was lying there, motionless on the floor of her cage. Seemed her sickness had taken her life sometime during the day. Still to this day my grandfather swears that she died at the exact moment her brother pa$$ed away. He told me there was something magical about those to hounds, and they were never meant to be apart.
This devastated Pa so much; he sold every hound he owned. When I came around, all he had left were the stories. The stories I treasured and still do to this very day. They fascinated me and gave me dreams of owning my own hounds one day. The day I turned eighteen, I answered an ad in our local paper about beagles for sale. I brought the most beautiful black and tan little male I had ever seen home with me. The first stop on my way home, of course, was my grandfather’s house. Playing with this small puppy in the living room, must have unlocked a ton of old feelings this old man had locked deep inside of him. From that very day it was not long before Pa purchased his own beagles again. Then we merged and started out very own kennel together. Now I can live my own stories with Pa to tell to my kids. After all this time has gone by Pa still claims one thing we’ll never do is own any hounds better the Suga or Shorty! Please remember this as your life goes by, Even if you do not own hounds anymore, anyone can still make our sport live on with just telling STORIES!