st back in, if I remember correctly, November 2001. It was written after my attending my first open field coursing event with my dog, BJ. BJ was a big fellow and he so enjoyed himself that day. I have since lost him to the infirmaries of old age and I'm indulging myself in a trip down memory lane... Enjoy.A personal account....
I firmly believe that there are times in one's life where brief moments of time seem to stand still. An image of that moment, a snapshot of perfect clarity, color and composition, is forever burned onto the silver nitride of one's brain to be viewed time and time again.
This past weekend, BJ & I participated in our first official open field coursing event. My brain carries one "snapshot" of a particular moment in time and one slow motion, moving picture of the events leading up to that snapshot.
BJ ran well. He ran well and ran with some high quality open field dogs (gh's owned & bred by Karen & Ramon and Karen's mom - Pat). We were running the Corralitos jacks - big, tough, fast blacktails. BJ did not embarrass himself, even tho' his inexperience showed.
On Saturday, we ran with TCC (The Coursing Conservancy) a nice group of people. We had fun and there weren't any injuries in the field - a good day coursing. We kicked up enough jacks to finish the prelims and called it a day as the field was getting too hot to safely run the dogs. BJ had drawn into the 6th course and when the hare broke cover, I believe that he never sighted until he was a long ways back and in a tail chase. He returned to me instead.
Sunday we ran with SWCC (Southwest Coursing Club) and it was a different day. Roll call was held at the Lazy E Cafe aka Brent's Cafe (they have excellent coffee!!!) and BJ drew into Course 5 with Elia (greyhound) and Nova (whippet).
Sunday was a pretty day, sun shining & cooler temperatures. The day dawned with a gentle breeze. But, as the day progressed, the wind intensified to a point just strong enough to encourage the hares to seek cover down in the washes. The first course or two was run up on higher ground bordering the wash and pretty much came off without a hitch.
Since hares were few & far in between up topside, the huntmaster made the decision to sweep down into the wash that we'd been paralleling. Her thinking was, correctly if I might add, that the hares were hunkered down in the wash because of the wind. Course 3 went smoothly and then course 4 was run.
Course 4 was a great course. I don't remember the third dog in the course, but two hounds were Mocha (gh) and Ms. Bootsie (saluki). A nice runup followed by a take attempt and a turn. When the dust settled, Mocha was hot on the tail of the jack, really working it and forcing turns (boy can that bitch turn!), but, standing alone on the field favoring her left front was Ms. Bootsie. Bootsie had broken her foreleg just above the wrist. According to the owner, it had the appearances of being a clean, simple fracture. They splinted her leg on the field and were staying with her, awaiting the arrival of a vehicle to take her to the vet in Las Cruces. While they were waiting, we resumed the hunt.
For those of you who do not know, when BJ was a puppy, he broke his femur in the stifle joint. It has always been the subject of great concern to all who are associated with him. Even so, the boy has done everything I've ever asked him to do. Now, here I was, asking him to do one more thing...one more thing that would really test his desire and abilities as a greyhound, and, not to mention, the leg.
We began walking the field, hunting, searching for the elusive Corralitos jacks. The hunting dogs were Elia (NGA greyhound), Nova (whippet) and BJ (AKC greyhound). Thoughts ran rampant through my brain, "What if.... Suppose...." and finally, "Am I nuts?" I was absolutely, stone cold terrified that some nasty, nasty misfortune would befall my beloved companion and buddy. I was torn and tormented as I questioned my sanity and the wisdom of letting my dog run in this wash with holes in it large enough that they could swallow a man, let alone a racing dog.
We began walking the field, hunting, searching for the elusive Corralitos jacks. The hunting dogs were Elia (NGA greyhound), Nova (whippet) and BJ (AKC greyhound). Thoughts ran rampant through my brain, "What if.... Suppose...." and finally, "Am I nuts?" I was absolutely, stone cold terrified that some nasty, nasty misfortune would befall my beloved companion and buddy. I was torn and tormented as I questioned my sanity and the wisdom of letting my dog run in this wash with holes in it large enough that they could swallow a man, let alone a racing dog.
Suddenly, the cry went up, "RABBIT!!!". At this point, time slowed down. As if in slow motion, I heard the long, drawn out cry, "Tal...ly..... ho!" as the hare swung in an arch to the left across the front of the hunting dogs. I remember seeing the big, strong jack as it went by, ears flat back and then looking down at BJ. His muscles were bunched for the all important first spring, the spring out of the slips, and he was more than eager to be off. Before I even thought about it, I had released him, he was out of the slips and on the hare, right along with Nova and Elia. The 3 hounds were all within a length of each other with Elia right on the hare's butt. It was at this moment, my "snapshot" imprinted itself.
The snapshot is one of BJ, his ears flat back and his mouth open for maximum air intake. I can see his teeth through the open mouth. He is balanced on his left foreleg, which is well back under his body, the right foreleg tucked well up in front of his chest just before it extends, and his powerful hindquarters coming up tight under his body just before he becomes airborn in the contracted phase of the DSG. The look of intensity...the look of power...the look of grace. I will always remember this moment. Anyway, the game was afoot and the course was on!
From that point forward, time resumed its normal speed. I was told that Elia, who was in the lead on the runup, tumbled but rolled to his feet and came up running. BJ & Nova were right behind him and BJ had a gut-wrenching, hard fall that ripped the blanket off of his back.
**Oh my gawd! I've broken my dog!!!** Came the unbidden thoughts as I clutched first Ramon's arm and then my friend Robert's hand for support and security as the tears began to flow from my fear. Robert reassured me that BJ was alright and he was up & running - and running well - before I could bring myself to watch the remainder of the course.
He too came up running with the blanket tangled around his hind legs. He kicked off the blanket and resumed the chase, closing the gap between himself & Nova and Elia. The course cut left and then right. All too soon, the hounds and hare were out of sight. We watched and waited. The judge still had his glasses up. How far, how long would the course go? After some time, the judge lowered his glasses and the lookout for the dogs began.
The first dog back was Elia. He approached the gallery from the north. As all looked to the north for BJ & Nova, someone called out that he/she saw them up on the ridge, heading south. They were a good 800 yds out and headed away from the gallery. That is where the fun began. With whistles blowing, me calling (made me feel better), and people waving hats, leashes, whatever, his attention was finally caught and he began to head towards the gallery. The huntmistress (I think) encouraged me to go out and meet my dog and to tend to him as he had a long, hard course.
Karen & Pat told me it was an excellent course. I'm ashamed to say I missed most of it because of my fear.
I cannot express my appreciation enough to the fine people of SWCC and TCC for all their help and encouragement. Nothing I have ever encountered could have prepared me for my experiences this weekend. The OFC people are a fine group of dedicated dog people, who helped me when I needed help and took the time to both teach and encourage me. I will always be thankful to them. Before BJ & I packed up to leave, the question was asked, "Did this discourage you? Will you try again?"
No, I was not discouraged. And, yes. BJ ("my wussy AKC greyhound showdog") & I will be in the field again.
Now that I've purged my fears from my system, more things are resurfacing in my memory, including other snapshots of the day.
Mocha.....
Mocha is a pretty, very feminine, red fawn greyhound bitch that is an incredible runner! She goes, I'm guessing, about 58 - 60 pounds and is a little bit larger than her littermate (again guessing), Peanut. But, as feminine as she is, that bitch is an assassin on jacks.
Mocha ran in Course 4 and this course left three more snapshots in my mind's eye. The snapshots left their impressions throughout the playing of the movie left by the course. The hounds, Ms. Boots, Mocha and the third dog, are slipped and accelerate off the line. They are flying! The runup seems short to my little pea brain and then the hounds are forcing a turn. As the hounds forced the jack to turn, Mocha seemed to slide through the turn on her hocks, not unlike a quarterhorse cutting cattle, and accelerated out of the dust cloud, leaving and creating more dust in her wake. This is the first snapshot, her red fawn body going through the turn with a cloud of dust behind her. Her slide through the turn, hind legs well under her, hocks well bent, body slightly arched from the tuck and her back parallel to the ground. Simply incredible!
Continuing the movie... Hollering over my shoulder at her owners, the comment came, "My God! Can that bitch turn!!!" The sight of her demanded my full attention and I could not take my eyes off of her. She is simply incredible! But then, I heard someone to my right say, "She's hurt...leg's broken..." At that time, my heart fell and the joy of watching Mocha faded as my eyes took in the scene of a hurt dog on the field with her owner being excused by the Huntmaster to go and attend to her dog. The scene of the hurt saluki and the people attending her was the second snapshot of that course.
The third snapshot was another one of Mocha. My attention drawn away from her, I did not see her finish the course and make the kill on the hare. The movie clip resumes with Mocha entering the periphery of the scene from the right, carrying the blacktail jack, its body dragging alongside her body. The dead jack appeared to be half as long as Mocha! It looked to be huge in comparison to this petite hound. I can clearly see the grey-brown coloration of the hare against the red fawn of the greyhound. Mocha has her head and neck arched against the weight of the hare. She approaches the people attending the saluki and drops the hare at the saluki's feet. Then click! The third snapshot, her dropping the hare in front of the saluki.
ADDED COMMENT - Hounds don't willingly give up their catch to other dogs. I found Mocha's display of charity a very generous one and one that people would do well to learn.
