I knew the air carried with it a smell out of the ordinary, but I couldn't quite put my paw on what it was. Using my best investigative skills, I perused the backyard thoroughly, to no avail. But what's that? The smell is coming from...the tree...yes, that's it, that tree over there. I started baying cautiously, to warn any passersby, neighbors, or inhabitants of far-away lands that there was something suspicious around Maple Leaf this evening. Just as I was in the midst of a hot trail, Mom came out and interrupted.
"Cilla?" she inquired.
"look, look, up there, up there, I smell me somethin!" I shouted. But alas, she is MONO-lingual and didn't understand. Just as I was ready to turn in resigned frustration, I heard something....and I bolted. HOLY COW!! What was that?? Although Mom heard nor saw anything, that tiny sound was enough to send me running for cover.
She tricked me into coming inside with the subliminal promise of a treat, but she did not deliver. When I returned to my post over an hour later, the trail was still hot and I KNEW I was onto something. Bootsy? No, don't think so. Squirrel? Oooo, as enticing as that sounded, that wasn't it either. HUMAN THAT MIGHT STOP AND LOVE ME???? No, unfortunately not. Then the air delivered that distinct, engraved into the very core of my soul SMELL..............RACCOON. Oh Lord have mercy, it was, it was!! Several years of Mom promising this treasure, but nothing. I went nutso, bonkers, completely insane, trying to let everyone know what I found.
"ooooooweeee, I got it I got it I got it, there's a coon, yes there is, it's here, someone get me a ladder, please Lord, let it fall down to me, please please please please! MOOOOOOOOM!! RACCOOOOOOOOON!!"
Mom tottered down the stairs and I leapt onto the fence, threw my head back and let the old spirits of the first coonhounds to inhabit the earth erupt from my SOUL. "Baawoooooo!!" Mom ran to me and then...wait, what??? Let me go!! Let me go, oh Lord get her off me, please SET ME FREE!!! She maintained her grip, in spite of my greatest efforts to free myself from that horrid collar that enslaves me. I tried to tell her that this is me, this is in my blood, so I increased the volume and frequency of my baying. She then had the AUDACITY to clamp my mouth shut with her hand and whisper "shhhh, you're scaring the baby coon."
Um, DUHHHHH!! That's the point, isn't it? As she wrestled me in the house - and oh man, did I put up a fight - she was able - barely - to convince me to abandon my post and God-given duties as a coonhound for a tasty morsel of a treat. I know what you're thinking. I'm a sell-out, I'm not true to my roots. But if you know anything about coonhounds, you know we're a sucker for food. If I can get it down my throat, I'll eat it.
In the end, she did congratulate my efforts and petted my head, saying "Good girl, you hunted 'em up!!" Yeah, you know...I did. And that is worthy of at least 10 more treats. And maybe some chicken off the counter. Speaking of, I've got some trouble to get into.........
