<- back to articles

My 2002 Season

by Aaron Comeau :: Featured: March, 2002

The days are slowly growing longer and the birds are making their way back from their winter retreat. As the season draws to an end, I am filled with mixed emotions. On one hand I feel relieved, and on the other a sense of sadness. My first full season has passed without my most faithful companion, "Maude". Sitting here on this stump listening to the hounds sing away, I can't help but look up and smile. I sure do miss the old girl and at times, when the pack has a loss, I swear I hear her bust out and explode with it, bringing the others back in on the chase. Her ashes sit on my bookshelf -- I had planned to spread her out after a good day of running in one of our old haunts, but I'm just not ready.

Chelsea, my eight-year-old female has now assumed the "Queen Bee" role in the kennel, and has adjusted well. God knows she has had her hands full with the two pups and keeping them in line. Max and Madeline are closing in on the ripe age of one and a half, and seem to get into every situation imaginable. Of course, considering they are seven years old in human years, explains their mischievous behavior.

Their first full season has come to an end and they have started the slow transformation into hare hounds. They have had days that would have made many a man proud and others that I wouldn't have paid a wooden nickel for. I love 'em though and I have to keep reminding myself that it's for them, not for me. I can only imagine how they feel when they are in pursuit at full cry. I know how I feel when I hear them light up and when the rabbit is rapidly closing the gap between them and my death messenger. Just imagine the feeling they get during a chase, heart pumping, adrenaline flowing, and eyes almost bugging out of their heads! Makes you want to pound your chest and bark at the moon. I love them for doing it and they love me for letting them.

The season started with a bang in Northern NH back in October. I am sure most of you have some game rich places to hunt, but I am telling you Northern NH is a hare hunter's paradise. The large tracks of undeveloped land, with soft wood swamps, hold some of the largest hare population in the East, and posted land is almost unheard of. The folks in these parts still appreciate the hunter and the revenue they bring to the motels, restaurants, and taverns.

Chris Miller, owner of Miller Outdoors :: Guide Service & Registered Beagles from Rochester NH had invited me on a three day trip to help with some clients he had coming from New York. Chris specializes in hare hunts, so I knew the pace would be fast and furious. The four gentlemen from New York were a pleasure to hunt with and the hounds ran well. I think it is more satisfying when, after all your hard work, the hounds really put on a good show and provide someone else with a hunt to remember. We ate like kings, drank homemade cider (among other things) and swapped a whole bunch of lies. My brother Theron joined me on the trip, which made it that much more enjoyable.

The month of November the hounds were on hold due to deer season, which is all but sacred in my family. December came with snow and back on the track we went. The snow proved to be a brand new ball game with the pups and at first they struggled to figure it out. January and February the temps. plummeted and a hard crust formed on top, which caused most beagler's in the north to all but give up. Frustration started to creep in on me concerning the pup's performance, but everyone I talked with was having the same problems. Even the folks known to have good snow dogs were pulling their hair out. I felt some relief when even they could not get any good runs. Although somewhat relieved I could not help but demand more from my own. I spoke to Ed Brown who gave me some good advise, "DON'T GIVE UP TOO SOON, A LOT OF GOOD DOGS BELONG TO SOMEONE ELSE BECAUSE OF THIS." Every chance I got I took them out, good conditions or not. I started to run them solo almost exclusively and, slowly but surely, they started getting better and better -- even in the tough conditions. They didn't light the woods on fire by any means, but they showed a lot of hunt and desire, and worked their noses raw.

Today was my last day to hunt because with Friday came the end of the season. I run the dogs all year, but today was the last day to bring the cannon along and serve up some whoop a$$. As I pulled up to what I thought was my own secret honey hole, I noticed a pickup parked in the pull off, and it had a dog box. Disappointment started to leak in, because I only had two hours to hunt and this was my only hope. I pulled up and noticed two fellas walking out with some beagles on lead. I saw guns but I didn't see any dead rabbits. Maybe there was still a chance!

Making small talk I said, "Did ya' get any?" One of them replied, "We had a run, but nothing productive". They didn't seem too friendly and I could hear them whispering as I pulled the dogs out of the box. As I walked by them with the dogs on lead I said " Well, we'll give it a try.", and one of them said, " Good Luck.". I really wasn't expecting much and thought, "Oh well, at least they'll get some exercise." Well, fortunately for us, dogs don't think like we do and when I let them off lead they scattered into the woods working the ground like vacuum cleaners. Those boys were not even in the truck yet when old Chelsea opened up. Within seconds two more voices joined in and off they went like a pack of crazed dogs. That old Buck Hare was real stinky from the breeding he had been doing, and for two hours the dogs pursued him relentlessly until very quickly and humanely he was delivered to his maker.

The season ended as it began and only fitting, I shot the first rabbit in front of them and the last. I was born of French Canadian descent, but BEAGLER -- BY THE GRACE OF GOD!