Here’s a little tale submitted by our friend, Torrey Farmer.  We sure miss Torrey down at the ranch, but Sonoma is a long drive for a guide’s wages… not to mention it’s a long way from the family too.  Fortunately, it sounds like he’s got some great hunting up there in “the other wine country”.

The weather has turned up here in Sonoma county and as all my buddies were gearing up to hunker down and watch football this brisk Sunday morning, I was up at the crack of dawn with my two trusty “Bulldogs” and one “old rangy” Catahoula!  My .454 Casul, a water bottle, a break stick, and my old pocket knife were the gear of choice for the day.  I enticed one buddy of mine, a green horn to hog hunting, (thats probably why he came, still unsure of what runnin’ dogs involves) however willing and able, to grab his 30-30 and meet me in town at 530 a.m.  So with dogs in box, some Waylon playing in the truck, and hopes of catchin’ one on our minds we headed out to the woods of North West Sonoma County!

Now hunting the steep timber country is what I love doing, the smell of fir and redwoods, the sinus clearing smell of the bay tree, the ferns, and the “hog feeding” oak trees (by which are droppin’ acorns like crazy right now) all are something to take in and be grateful for!  The sky was overcast this morning as our first heavy rain of the year is due, thus bringing the woods alive with color and scent and activity!  I knew and had that 6th sense a hog hunter gets when he takes to the woods, that this morning would be special!

We arrived at our desired spot and leashed up the dogs, we had a good 3/4 mile walk before we got to where I wanted to “dump ‘em in”.  As we made way through the second of two ranch gates I took note of a few black spots about a hundred yards out!  With a second look I confirmed they were indeed Hogs.  Being that far out and in the open I whispered to my buddy Ry, “Shoot one of them bastards”. 

Ry turned and looked at me like I was crazy and said “shoot what?”. 

“Pigs, Pigs, bleeping Pigs” I said in my best whisper yell! 

I pointed to a bush and told him to jack one in and kill one while I sit back with the dogs.  So at this point Ry proceeds over to the bush I picked out for him and set up.  He was looking at about ten to twelve healthy 100 to 120 pounders from about 80 to 90 yards!  CRACK, the lever action rang out, I saw dust and all the hogs spun and ran down hill.  The old gut feeling let me know he missed, but we ran to check for blood anyways!  I dumped my young gyp Catahoula and trusty veteran bulldog (Honeybunch) in to the mix. They bolted in the group’s last seen direction.  My other bulldog I kept on lead with me to look for blood, and as guessed, there was none. 

It did not long to hear the Catahoula start baying.  We ran down to try and locate her and it sounded as if she was running those hogs to hell!  That feeling means one thing, work and lots of it.  I told Ry to stay put in case they came back and I would go and follow dogs (football Sunday was not sounding bad at this point).  No sooner than I took off the Catahoula came back to Ry, but still no Honeybunch. 

We were separated and she’d been out for about an hour when I got to a point where I could barely hear some barking.  I forged my way there through a creek and heavy timber to find my trusty Bulldog in bay with three of those hogs.  She had ‘em backed into an old “Goose Pen” redwood tree, just a goin’ nuts, (not bad for a catch dog).  All said and done it was another great hunt and a perfect start to my favorite time of the year!  The dogs will never cease to amaze you regardless of how much time you run ‘em.  When you get into a group 9 time outta 10 the dogs will split up, and a lot of the time the hogs will get away! 

The young Catahoula did her job, she just was under manned!  The old bulldog did her job she was, well she is a bulldog! 
Luck,
Torrey Farmer