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Bugle:  A Dog of Memory

by Ed Hedgecorth :: Featured: February, 2003

In December of 1982, while hunting with a friend ( Mr. Heber Hardy) and his dogs, I witnessed two of the best gun dogs I had seen.a pair of females three to four years old named Bugle and Penny.  They were blanket backs, black-tan-white, Bugle had more white than tan.  They were of medium speed and a rabbit could run but it couldn't hide. They were track runners and gave a lot of mouth ...if you rabbit hunt you know what I mean.  I had my dog Driver, somewhat faster, the name says it all!.but that's another story.  I got him from Heber about 2-3 years earlier.  It was a cold day, we sucessfully hunted about 3 hours and deceided to leave.  Heber said he would like to have old Driver back and asked me if I would trade for the pair.  I told him I would but thought one for one would be a more even trade.  He said they should not be broken up and he wanted me to have them both.  We traded.

I took the dogs home and during the next week, as one of my young sons was feeding them, Penny bolted from the pen, ran into the road and was killed !  Needless to say I was sad and the boy was heartbroken.  Bugle continued on with my other dogs (Bell and Jim) and the next few years brought us many enjoyable hunts just listening to them run (year round) or actually gunning rabbits during season.  I think if you like to rabbit hunt what you really like is watching and hearing the hounds run.  I don't know of anyone that hunts this day and age that truly needs the meat.  Although a plate of fried rabbit, fried potatoes, some biscuits and gravy is as fine a meal as could be fixed.

We moved to the farm in '86 and finally had a place I could just let my dogs run loose.  I spent many nights and early Saturday mornings listening to the music of running hounds whether it was Bugle with her high pitched chop and Bell with the lower ball or the chops, squalls, and balls of other dogs I had along with two or three dogs of Heber's.  It truly was a symphony to my ears.  Those were good years.

I guess it was '87 or '88 when I noticed that Bugle was slowing down and I told the boys she was just getting old (we really didn't know her age) and she would be excellent for training pups.  One morning, a few weeks later, she didn't come to greet me as usual and I could not find her.  My sons, who by then were in high school, and I found her in the small barn.  She was paralyzed in her rear area, both legs.  The boys were very attached to her and wanted to know what we were going to do, so I called the Vet.  He examined her and said he did not feel there was anything to be done and that he would put her to sleep, if I wanted.  Since she gave no indication of pain, I said no and brought her home.  I talked to the boys about what should be done.  They felt we should take care of her.  So for the next few months water and food were carried to her and she was put in and taken out her dog house which was moved from the pen to near the porch.  We then began to notice that more of the time she would not be around the house but laying in the sunshine in the yard.  One day we saw a most amazing site as she came "walking" from the yard to the doghouse balanced on her two front legs!  Actually, she got around pretty well considering !!  We all continued to baby, pet, and cater to her on a daily basis.

Her condition continued for the next year or so with no change.  When listening to the dogs run I always put her in my hunting coat and carried her to where I sat.  She would listen and whine as the pack came near us. hot on the trail.  I know she knew exactly what was happening as she would raise her head and cock her ears as she lay next to me or on my lap.  At least she should have, since I described the race in detail to her many times.

It was a cold, overcast day in december and I was training a pair of young dogs.  They were doing a good job and the rabbit came right next to where we were sitting.  I saw the rabbit as it darted off into a brushy area next to the creek, and as the hounds trailed to our location, they lost the track.  All was quiet.  They looked for the track with no success.  Bugle whined, raised up on her two front legs, walked about 8-10 feet to where the rabbit came through and barked that high pitched "bugle" chop.once more.  She too had seen the rabbit.  The other two dogs came to her, took the track and the race was on.  They just needed a little help from an old hand.

A month or so later Bugle died.  I buried her in the field next to the creek where we had sat that day.  Out of all the dogs I've had (very few were better), my family always remembers Bugle.