I recently learned that my friend’s Treeing Walker Coonhound, Molly, passed away unexpectedly a couple months ago as the result of a snake bite. It is hard to describe how much this dog meant to me. She is the reason that I went from being a cat guy to being a dog guy. She was the finest dog I have ever met. She single-handedly (can you even say that about a dog) rekindled my interest in ‘coon hunting and made me want to own a hunting dog. I was so impressed with her that I bragged about her as if she was my own dog.
She treed more coons than any hound I know of. She is the only dog that I have ever seen that found and treed a ccoon in under a minute. She also treed the biggest coon I have ever seen–over 30 pounds. She would vibrate with energy when it was time to go hunting, and then calmly lie down to rest when the night was over. She never growled, nipped or misbehaved. She adored getting attention and was almost as happy being allowed to sneak inside for some petting as she was when she was out hunting. She would hunt boldly on her own and tolerate other dogs when hunting in a pack. Her choppy bark once she had treed was distinctive and always brought a smile to my face. She was small and didn’t really meet the standard for her breed, but she was tougher than dogs twice her size.
I am glad I stepped outside one freezing cold night and fed her half of my steak as a reward when nobody was looking. Without Molly, I would never have been motivated to get my dogs, Dixie and Angel. So, I owe her a huge debt of gratitude. I sure will miss that dog.
