Patches the Coon Hound

Coon hunters are a bread of their own. I have to sadly admit I haven’t been coon hunting in many years. The sport of hunting raccoons has become riddled with frustration and impossibilities due to urbanization with its housing developments and posted signs.

Both coon hounds and raccoons (especially raccoons) do not understand the concept of posted signs, private property or private residences. They just don’t seem to care if a family of four are asleep in the house the porch is attached to that the not so dumb animal decided to hide in.

It’s good to have memories however, and I have a few adventures I can recall while chasing those mangy fur-bearers. I was much younger then and didn’t mind a ten mile trek over hill and dale carrying a Ruger ten-twenty two, a Smith and Wesson .22 and a good flashlight that by today’s standards was the size of a pickup truck battery.

I was hunting with an Airedale coon hound that was given to me by a coworker. He had given up traipsing through the woods after dark and wanted “Patches” to have a good home.

Patches was a great coon hound. He was good on track and treed like a champion. He had one small shortcoming however. It had to do with skunks.

If we were chasing, treeing and catching ‘coon, all was well. However ………. Patches did not like dry spells, and two or three nights without a ‘coon to challenge was a bit of a problem for Patches and he seemed to blame the lack of treatable coon on skunks.

It’s not uncommon to see skunks scurrying about while out in the nighttime air. It’s actually kind of common, and as long as there were some ‘coon about, they were safe. But in the absence of ‘coon, it was not good for the skunk or for us hunters.

Now I suspect you’re thinking, so he kills a skunk. One less skunk in the world isn’t the end of the world. Of course thee is the odor. Killing a skunk can create quite a scent not easily dealt with.

However, Patches had a bit of a viscous side. He didn’t just kill the skunk, he literally tore it to pieces. This poor skunk would end up scattered over a ten acre area. The shaking and dragging and rolling and shaking and dragging and rolling and shaking and dragging and rolling.

There would literally be a cloud of “skunk” that would lay over the area. The odor would literally bring you to your knees. I once tried to leash Patches to get him out of there, but remember, he always had a head start and by the time we knew what was happening, it was well before under way.

I had to burn my close. My wife made me sleep outside. The smell actually burned. It was like it seeped into your being and released its fragrance at will. I can testify tomato juice doesn’t help very much.

It was so bad we would not even put Patches in the back of the truck. And if we had the Wagoneer, forget it! We simply went home. Patches knew the way. He would meet us there the next morning.

It the primary reason his dog coup was so far from the house.

But I will say, it must have been a great sinus and nasal cleansing, because we never went hunting after a skunk night and not had coon pelts to bring home.