The first time I went coon hunting I was nigh of thirteen years old. It was late spring, and the coon season was in full swing.As I was on my way home from work one evening, I spotted a coon crossing the dirt road ahead of us, just in front of our house.

My brother, upon seeing this coon as well, and being the "Billy Coleman" of the family, decided to give the coon a little while, to give it a fair chance, and then try to track it with our coon dogs. Knowing I like to hunt in general, he invited me to go along, for my first experience at coon hunting. Needless to say, I willingly accepted.

After we attached our nite lights, loaded up on bug spray and put our three dogs on leashes, we headed out. We turned the dogs loose, a ways from where we had last seen the coon. It didn't take long to get this ol' boar treed. He must have see us driving by and knew what was coming, because he had already denned up.

My brother and I searched the tree that the dogs were convinced ol' bandit' was in, as well as the surrounding ones. I spotted a pair of yellow, glowing eyes staring at me, as I shone the light up in the tree that the dogs were certain upon. I have to admit that having a 15-pound, fighting mad coon, looking down at me baring his big, yellow teeth, was not the most wonderful feeling.

He was perched up in a dead red oak, not very far from our starting point. My brother started "squalling" to the coon, a sound that raccoons use when in distress and down he came. The barking and carrying on of the dogs didn't seem to phase him in the least. The boar hissed and growled the whole way down, as to bluff the dogs back. It didn't work this way either, our pumped up black-and-tans, as well as our young redbone, had smelt the track, treed, and were not about to be convinced other wise. They were going to win this match up.

About half way down the tree, the boar jumped to the ground. He took off running, only to be met each way he turned, by an excited silhouette that belonged to the canine species. Once he realized he couldn't escape that situation, he didn't hesitate before he started into the pack and really gave those dogs a good, hard fight. My brother then finished the excitement, with his .22 rifle, much to the chagrin of the three dogs.

After we got back to the house, we wondered why the coon had been hanging out so close to human residence. We then figured that it was a sow coon my brother had been keeping for training purposes for our young dogs. She was the reason for what had attracted the boar coon. We wondered how many coons had been "courting" this sow while we were gone that night!

I have been coon hunting numerous times since that first hunt, but it will always stand out to me and be an exceptionally special memory.