I got interested in coonhunting when I was 10 and asked my dad if he knew any thing about hound. Guess what i was named after my dads best plott!! So my dad got a walker and started to coyote hunt, that was ok. Then my dads friend took his bluetick. We meet at the railroad tracks on a nice October night. We first turned lose in a alfalfa field. Dad and his friend heared the dog open in a field and I hear him in the corn field. He had it bayed up. My dad grabed the 22 from me and we ran. My dad got the first one. We turned loose agin. He bayed one in a pile of wood. The bluetick was right in that coons face. I shot the coon in the neck because my dad tolled me to. That dog went nuts! We walked down the tracks and turned lose agin. He treed walked in there. We seen 4coon in the tree! I shot the first one in the head. The second onei shot 3times in the chest. Then my dad tolled me thats enough. Four years later I had a nice redbone named Mack. I went hunting one the same tracks and then the worst thing. He got ran over by a train. I cried and cried. The guy I got Mack from said he had pups. So me my dad went to his place. I seen the pup that looked like Mack. Then I brought him home and now he is hunting by himself and doing every thing just like Mack. I named that pup Mack.

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