Those rascally rabbits

I’ve been blessed with several good friends throughout the years. And then there have been those who seemed more like a family member than a friend. But regardless of one’s relationship, time notoriously takes its toll. Our society is just too busy. It’s difficult to remain in contact with those who we fail to see on a regular basis.

That in mind, I strive to keep in touch with a select group of people. So, when my friend Jacob Barrett recently suggested a rabbit hunt, I eagerly agreed.

We had tentatively planned several fishing and hunting excursions throughout the past couple of years, but something would always come up. The weather threw a wrench into our plans on occasion, but our lack of fellowship was usually a result of hectic schedules.

Well, unpleasant weather once again reared its ugly head as the day we had scheduled to go hunting neared. The forecast suggested a cool and dreary day. The coolness was not an issue under normal circumstances. But add precipitation to the equation and it was a recipe for potential misery.

But we had no intentions of allowing the forecast sway our plans. I headed to Glenwood bright and early despite a light rain. The recent forecast had suggested the precipitation would move out of our region of the state by midmorning. With a little luck, the sky would begin to clear before we became drenched.

But the weatherman missed the mark by several hours. A slight drizzle continued to fall throughout the morning and failed to relent until later in the day. But that was OK, we were mentally prepared to hunt, come what may.

Cutting the dogs loose, we slowly walked toward a nearby thicket. Topping a slight knoll, Jacob caught a glimpse of a rabbit going into a thicket. We immediately coaxed the dogs in the direction of the brier patch. However, we were somewhat surprised when they were slow to strike. In fact, the rabbit had withstood all of the activity it could stand and bolted from the opposing side of the thicket before the dogs opened up.

Well, it just so happened that the cottontail ran within shooting range of Jacob. We had one in the bag before the dogs finally got lined out on the trail. I noticed rabbit number two rabbit rushing into another nearby brier patch. Once again coaxing the dogs into the right direction, we prepared ourselves for a red-hot race.

The thicket was so thick, though, that the dogs could barely penetrate the brambles. And by the time they had finally made into the trenches, the rabbit had evidently taken refuge in a hole. Easing down the opposing side of the hill, we eventually reached an area that had been adversely affected by the recent rains. The rabbits were obviously on the move, but the low-lying area was standing in water. And I wasn’t overly confident that a cottontail would even attempt to feed in such conditions.

Continuing forward we hunted for the next hour to no avail. I will be the first to admit that our dogs were not performing to the best of their abilities. But we had walked a ways. It seemed as if we would surely jump a straggler during our journey if they were stirring at all. Eventually opting to call it a day, we began calling in the hounds. And although we had seen them all just minutes before, it suddenly grew clear that we were minus a dog. Walking to atop a hill and calling we never heard a peep. She was obviously within hearing distance, but she evidently had no intentions of coming in.

We had tracking collars on every dog. However, the receiver was in the truck. Eventually returning and getting the rig, we finally got a line on and retrieved the lost hound. Loading the dogs in the box, we all agreed that the outing could have proved more productive. Yes, we could have bagged more rabbits. But on the other hand, the day was a far cry from a loss, as I savored the opportunity to fellowship and share my passion for hunting with a very special friend.