In my early 20's. Inspired by Grandpa's stories, I was a rabbit hunting fool. Every chance, and even when I didn't have the time, I was stomping on brush piles and kicking tall grass and brier patches. The OP mentioned seeing the little black eye. That became a regular occurrence in my irresponsible drive, honed by the time spent in this activity. It got to the point that smelling the coney in its form before obtaining a visual was fairly regular. Other Fellows didn't believe that my olfactory senses could pick up the urine smell until I would then stir the rabbit from the hiding place. My family dined on many wild and domestic rabbit meals back then. It never caused me to get skinny.
Then the hounds to train came along. The magic of a dog that knows exactly what I wanted and how to do it as a team was spectacular. We really brought home the game together.
When my favorite beagle died I knew it was time to redirect my passion and energies toward more meaningful pursuits to better serve my young family. Those hours and days afield were enjoyable, though. Thanks for sharing your hunt and reward with us.
