Simple Tunnel Construction

Laying out a Go to Ground Tunnel using a single sheet of 3/4 inch plywood. The straight part of the den liner is 6-foot long, and two corners are cut out of the last 2-feet of the plywood sheet. I recommend simplifying the math and ripping all the long plywood sections into 9-inch wide pieces. You will end up with a slighty-narrower-than-regulation go to ground tunnel this way, but the dogs will have no problem with it.



Tunnel length assembled with three scrap pieces used as cross braces. All assembly is done with drywall screws. These braces are no trouble for the dog to step over, and make for a much stronger liner. Center the middle brace, and it becomes a perfect handle for carrying the liner.



Mountain checks out the wooden bars. The bars are loose and fit into slots drilled into a double cleats across the bottom, as shown. A cleat across the top holds the bars in place at the top. Remove one screw, and the cleat pivots (as shown) so that the 1" thick hardwood dowels can be changed when they become worn by terrier teeth.




Mountain enters the corner. The cleats on the outside, where the corner joins the straight section, prevent light from entering, but also allow the sections to be firmly attached with just a screw or two. Any dark colored mis-mixed external latex paint (available at HomeDepot for $1 a gallon) can be use to paint the outside of the liner, which will prolong its life. A six-foot liner is easy to transport, and will stand up right in a basement, garage or shed corner. Corners, can be flipped left or right, and you can build and add as many straight or odd pieces as you want (false dens, Ts', Y-forks, etc.).

For more information on using Go to Ground tunnels to start off a young dog, see >> HERE
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Chupacabra Hunting With Terriers

This is a picture of a fake Chupacabra. The dogs caught a REAL one!

The photo, above, is a not-very-good model of a Chupacabra. We sometimes hear of El Chupacabra, but it's very rare to know anyone who has actually seen one in the field, much less been lucky enough to bag one. But that is what the dogs and I did back in 2006, and I have the pictures to prove it.

But I am getting ahead of myself. What, you may ask, is a Chupacabra?

El Chupacabra is an animal that is known to inhabit rural areas of Mexico and parts of Central America. Its name, translated literally from the Portuguese and the Spanish, means "goat-sucker" for its habit of attacking and killing lifestock and draining them of all their blood.

It is not clear when the Mexican Chupacabra first came north to the United States, but by the mid 1990s, it was here. Mexican farmhands in such diverse places as Kentucky, Oklahoma, and Tennessee, would periodically come across dead livestock in the fields with torn windpipes and every ounce of blood drained from their carcases. "El Chupacabra," the migrant workers would whisper. "It has come El Norte with us."

It is easy to write such things off, and, in truth I have always done so myself. Where are the pictures of El Chupacabra? Where does it live during the day? Why does it only come out at night? Where is the proof? There were never any answers. Until now.

On that Sunday, I was walking the edges of a cut-over corn field with the dogs in tow, when Mountain slid into a hole and opened up to a full bay. A few minutes later, this thing came barreling out of the ground.

Mountain followed it out of the hole and gave chase, and soon caught it by the rear leg. Pearl, still young and full of herself, piled into the scrap too. Both dogs had it above ground and on its back. I ran over and put my boot on the creature so it could not bite the dogs. But ... what the hell was it?

And then, I knew. It was El Chupacabra -- the infamous Mexican goat-sucking blood beast of legend.

By God I had one, and it was not going to get away. And it didn't.

Now there are some who may doubt my story, but I have appended pictures of the Chupacabra below, for anyone to see the horror of this thing.

Clearly, this is not an animal found on earth. This animal is the work of the Devil. This is El Chupacabra.

The Self-Actualized Terrier: Happy In the Field

Mountain Staked at the Hole on Sunday
(click to enlarge)

A repost from this blog, circa 2007

A working terrier loves to work -- it lives for that magic moment when the scent drifts up from the hole and its genetic code explodes within, taking everything else with it like a tidal bore.

A working terrier lives for this. It would rather work than eat, drink or rest.

For a working terrier, finding quarry underground is what psychologist Abraham Maslow called a "peak experience" -- something that creates a nearly mystical feeling of intense happiness and sense of well-being leading to an awareness of the "ultimate truth" and the unity of all things in the Universe.

People who do not work their terriers will never understand this, and neither will those who see dogs as merely something to breed, show, sell, or brag about.

The working terrier does not exist for these ends; it exists for its own purposes. The work itself is a self-validating experience for the dog; it tells him what he is, and that he is right for this world. The dog does not give a damn about ribbons and rosettes, but it cares about the work as much as life itself.

Every time the working terrier faces the hole, it must decide whether it is willing to face the unknown thing that lies ahead in the dark, or the known emptiness that lies behind in the light. Or, as Abraham Maslow put it when describing the human condition:

"One can choose to go back toward safety
or forward toward growth. Growth must
be chosen again and again; fear must
be overcome again and again."

The working terrier chooses growth. It may feel fear at the unknown thing that lies ahead, but it works to harness that fear and channel it into intelligent choices.

A good working terrier is not foolishly brave; it makes the calculation behind the calculated risk.

When push comes to shove, however, it goes forward to face the unknown. As a result, the working terrier has a new and slightly different peak experience at every hole, and with every successful hole comes a stronger sense of self, a greater confidence, and a fuller happiness. In the end, no matter how long its longevity, the working terrier has had a life worth living. Can we ask more for a dog? Can we ask more for ourselves?

(click to enlarge)

My Teachers: Mountain, Sailor and Trooper

Two true workers. Reposed from 2010.

Mountain and Sailor. Mountain, at left, is 12" tall. Sailor, at right, 11" tall.

You would not think a one inch difference in height (and about the same in chest size) would make a lot of difference in the field, but it does in our very tight earths.

On this day, these two dogs had worked raccoon, groundhog and possum. Once washed off, they were as good as new.

Sailor taught me most of what I know. She will never be forgotten.

Below is a picture, taken from above, of Trooper my 15" tall Border Terrier who recently went to the Great Kennel in the Sky, and Sailor, my 11" tall Jack Russell who preceeded him by a few years.

Both dogs are dead now, but in this picture they can still do a bit of teaching. Size is fundamental, and with true working terriers bigger is not better.


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Back When I Had a Station Wagon

 

What's Goin On In Here?

Purina and Water

Ingredients:  Purina and Water.

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One of Gideon's Sunday Groundhogs

Gideon with one of yesterday's groundhogs.  


Gideon works two holes on video.  Without sound, for unknown reasons:  (hole 1, hole 2).

Technology is having its way with me these days; I have a new cell phone and I think my "tech brain" is full from trying to figure out how to work it.   I have never taken video with the point-and-shoot and not had sound before.  Oh well.  I ran out of batteries in the field too.  Wonder if that had something to do with it?
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Dirty Dogs are Happy Dogs

You can tell this is Mountain from the black spot on her tail.




Just the tip of her nose here. She's exiting dark ugly stuff along a railroad embankment. To come out head first, you first have to turn around underground. Not always easy!




Mountain exits another pipe sideways.




Happy dogs play dirty!

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Gideon Takes a Short Outing to a Farm

I took Mountain and Gideon to a small farm to see how Gideon would do off-lead, and if he'd be interested in exploring a few settes.

It was a drizzly day, but only projected to hit 88 degreess which counts for cool after the suffocating heat of the last two months.

Gideon was terrific off leash -- he stayed with me and was interested in what Mountain was up to, but not to the extent that he forgot I was his first charge. Perfect.

We busted a Great Blue Heron and a Great Egret in the creek bed; I always enjoy seeing these large birds take flight.

We hit a lot of holes, but Mountain never opened up except for one sette underneath a massive hollow tree (top picture) which cannot be dug and where the groundhog always escapes by climbing up inside the tree. Some places really are fortresses.

All in all a good, if blank, day. We were only out for a couple of hours. Next week, if it's cool, we'll get in some real hunting.


Gideon listens to Mountain inside trunk.


Gideon slides in to check a sette.


Another blank hole. The plastic pipe at left protects a newly planted tree from deer damage.


Gideon checks another sette hoping to find.


Where are the groundhogs?
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Mountain in 2004 ... and 2010

This is Mountain in May of 2004. I think this was the first video I ever shot with a little point-and-shoot camera. Back then (before Youtube) I had no idea what to do with video!

My notes say:

Went out today despite the 35-40 mph winds. Mountain pulled a 10-pound groundhog on her own and bolted another one out of a bank and into a field.

As you can tell from the end of the clip, I'm a bit new to this camera. Oh well.

This sette was in a thorn hedge, and when Mountain got it out of the ground she just kept pulling it back into the hedge -- the groundhog was being ass-pulled at a pretty rapid speed! I finally got through the hedge and dispatched the groundhog before the two of them got into a real brawl topside. This was a very shallow den and the groundhog moved to a pipe exit just as Mountain got there trying to find a new way in. She gripped on and pulled and it popped out about 5 seconds after the video ended. I think she was able to pull this one because the earth was so shallow that the groundhog could not brace itself in very well. The bolt occured in a hedgerow a couple of hundred yards up the way -- I could hear the bolt, but barely see it in the thicket on the bank. I think it popped down another hole, but I was too busted from the wind to pursue it. I'm going to take Mountain out alone for awhile to get her used to hunting without help from Sailor. She needs to learn to trust her nose a little more.

Two chucks worked, no dogs injured, and a serious wind burn for me -- not a bad day.

What I remember most from this day was the wind. It howled!

The same month, six years later, Mountain is still trying to pull one for the camera. I think Pearl was inside, providing the motivation for the bolt.


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A 15-inch Border and an 11-Inch Russell

Two of my dogs, now gone, but not forgotten.

Which one do you think got down the hole with room to spare (and spar)?
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Mountain is Famous!

This is sort of cool! I just got an email from someone who says Mountain's picture was lifted and used at "Ihasagotdog.com" which is a LOLCat for dogs (if that makes sense).

And sure enough, that is indeed my dog and my picture! Give the link a click and give Mountain a vote.

And YES, she really is that happy underground.
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Mountain Listens at a Hole

I found this photo on an old camera memory chip in the truck. Mountain's a bit thinner now!
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The Big Snow

The snow is still coming down. I went out to bang some of the snow off a few bushes and the holly tree. While I was out, the dogs joined me, and I took a few quick pictures.


Snow on the back patio furniture.


Snow on the greenhouse. The small square is where I mount my camera trap for my yard fox pictures. They come right up to the house.


A few of my bird feeders. This is just off to the side of the greenhouse.


Mountain plows through the upper yard.


The snow is actually taller than her back.


Pearl plays in the snow.




Trooper, the old man, still rules all. He is a bit slower, of course, and he does not bound through the snow. He trudges. Grudgingly. He would rather be asleep in his nice warm house, but if I come out, there is always a good chance there will be a few pieces of kibble to be had. Can't miss that!
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Mountain in the Woods

On Monday I left the dogs at the house and went to a patch of woods near the house, where I tracked too small groups of deer. One group had four does, and another had six does with a 4-prong buck in attendance.

Having spent some time tracking deer in these same woods during last year's snow, I was happy (and a bit amazed) to find I could locate deer quickly in the deep ravines where I now know they jungle up during the day. Due to wet ground and slow movement on my part, I was able to get within about 60 feet of the four does. Nice!

On Tuesday, Mountain and I hit the woods. Nothing was found to ground, which was as expected this time of year, as it's still far too warm for fox, and the groundhog are hibernating. In the woods, raccoons will generally den in the tree.

In truth, I was not too disappointed to not be digging, as the ground was still very logy and wet. On the upside, I got a few pictures of Mountain while she pinged on the squirrels in the trees.


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Digging on the Dogs

Yesterday was a nice day in the field with perfect weather, and three kinds of quarry dug to -- raccoon, groundhog and possum.



Mountain located a raccoon in a dirt den underneath a massive brush pile. I will spare you the details, but suffice it to say I managed to burrow down into the brush pile and sink a bore hole between mountain and the raccoon. I then twisted the post hole diggers so they blocked Mountain from reaching the raccoon, and she got the idea and finally came out. Good thing too, as there was no digging her out, and she was not coming off that raccoon any other way!

I leashed up Mountain and we drove to another farm a short way up the road, where we quickly located a groundhog and dispatched it at the farm manager's request.



I estimate I have taken 200 groundhog off of this particular farm, and there are not many left, though the farm manager says he has lost a few turkeys to a coyote, and the farm across the road took an enormous coyote last month -- the largest in the County so far.



The dogs checked a few more holes, and Mountain located a pretty tough-acting possum, which I pulled before Mountain decided to teach it respect. Possums are pretty harmless creatures, and though Dave the farm manager has chickens this fellow was toward the back of the farm, so I released him with nothing more than a stern warning.


This possum was released unharmed.

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Mountain is "Shovel Ready"

Mountain Girl is "shovel ready."

A Jack Russell Terrier is the original "stimulus package."


They start out small, and if you are lucky they stay that way. Mountain Girl as a pup at Larry Morrison's.
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First Fox of 2008

We had a lot of rain in December, and the ground is still pretty water-logged.

Monday was clear, however, and so I went out Tuesday with Mountain and Pearl, hoping to locate something to ground despite weather that is too cold for groundhog, and too warm for fox.

The first farm I hit had some nice creeks but not too many trees. I was hoping to locate a raccoon. We walked a mile or two, and I checked a fox den that has produced for me a couple of times before, but the dogs found nothing but wet ground and some degraded deer tracks.

We packed up and hit the next place, which I expected to be a little dryer due to the lay of the land. The wind had picked up by now, and it was blowing hard.

Our entrance into the first field raised a massive flock of crows, which took to the air in a rather impressive display.

We walked a small distance to a couple of large new fields which had a lot of great old groundhog holes and excellent drainage. This looked like it would be a very productive place for me in the Spring or Summer. I would be back.

I crossed back towards some fields I had worked before. As we crossed through a hedge, Pearl and Mountain came to a fork in the path on the other side and Mountain headed right up the path while Pearl went left. I stayed at the fork, expecting the dogs to come back and all of us to work the hedge line together.

Pearl came back after a few minutes, but Mountain did not. I waited another 10 minutes, and then followed her up into the field. There were a lot of old groundhog holes here, but no Mountain. Pearl and I called and waited. Nothing.

Mountain had clearly found, and so I put down the tools, and proceeded to scout around. About 45 minutes later, I found Mountain. She had been underground, only a few hundred yards from where I downed the tools. Now she was covered in dirt and standing on top of the pipe. As soon as she knew I had seen her, she went back to ground again.

Pearl saw Mountain before I did, and got to the hole quicker too. She slid in, and when I arrived there was a lot of growling from below. It sounded almost like a raccoon, but I knew this was no coon -- not in the middle of a field. This was a fox.

Pearl let out a yelp, and exited with a small puncture and Mountain came out again from another pipe, with a big gash on her muzzle. I grabbed Pearl, the first dog up, and staked her out. By the time I had finished with Pearl, Mountain was back to ground again.

I ran back to get the tools, and boxed Mountain down about five feet, almost dead center between the two holes, and perhaps 5 feet up a side pipe -- or that's how I imagined the layout below ground. This was a plain old groundhog hole -- there was no kickout, as you will generally find in a natal fox den. It was still very early in the season.

After a decent dig, I got down to Mountain and pulled her to check her muzzle. I figured the fox had nowhere to go. I was wrong; the pipe broke into a "Y" right where Mountain had been baying. While I was checking over Mountain, the fox took the opportunity to leave the very short end of the pipe it was cornered in, and ducked up the longer leg of the den pipe. Such is life!

Mountain had an L-shaped gash on top of her muzzle, but it looked like it would glue up well, and she otherwise seemed to be in fine fettle. She certainly did not want to be staked out!

I let Mountain loose one more time to locate the fox in the longer arm of the side pipe. After she was up on the fox again, I boxed her for location. Through a small miracle, I managed to grab Mountain's tail as she backed up a little in the pipe -- excellent. I was not interested in having Mountain get injured any more than she was.

The wind had picked up now, and it was blowing about 35 miles per hour, gusting to 40. I did not notice it while I was digging, but if I stopped I could feel it cut into me. I was only wearing a T-shirt and long-sleeve, but a good hat and a neck cowl saved the day. Wind this strong can suck the juice out of you pretty fast.

I blocked the bolt hole while I dug down to the fox, who remained unseen. I eventually got down to it at about four feet, and cut away the edge of the pipe enough to take a few pictures. After that, I filled in all the holes except for the one exit hole for the fox, put both dogs on lead, and pulled off to allow the fox to bolt free when it was ready.

This very healthy and feisty fox would have no problem finding a new location to den in; there were more than a dozen good holes within a few hundred yards.

Long may it run. And may we meet again.



Another fox found and left to run off unharmed for another day.
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Stray Pictures From a Very Small Sunday

Pearl found this possum in a hedgerow dump full of old pieces of metal, tires, boards, barbed wire and even an old chicken coop. This was an undiggable sette, with a huge roll of steel fencing pinned to the top of the earth by a tree that was growing through it. No matter; Pearl had fun, and I was happy she found before Mountain did -- a rare win for her.

Mountain found in this sette which was in the middle of an enormous old Sycamore tree -- another undiggable sette. The side of the tree trunk was covered over with huge rounds of wood cut from the top of the tree which had blown over some years earlier.

At the end of this last day of the groundhog season (they are starting to hibernate), two were found, none were dug, and there was no regret. The dogs came away healthy, and we all had a happy day in the field.

Fox season will start in January.