Had a buddy that run them in the 80’s with his dad he had permission from every landowner in the area he would drive the section lines early and late in the evening and when he seen one he would stop and putt a rope in the truck opening the doors on the side of the dog box and the chase was on I never seen fences bother his any
Braggin' rights!
Lots of coyote chasers around my neck of the woods. nothing but a barbed wire fence between us and the North Pole. Wind blew the barbs off years ago. The hounds have no problem with the fences.
The handlers don't give a crap about landowner rights as in Oklahoma, dogs can't trespass. I've had several hunts interrupted by coyote dogs coming through the area.
Shot the coyote a couple of times, and you would have thought I'd have shot one of the coyote hunters kids.
That THEIR DOG!
According to Okla State law, best not shoot one of the greyhounds or the kill dog either which is typically a Rott.
Grandpa had one dog name Slick. He hit a strand of barb wire full-speed and cut his throat wide open. Tried to save him but esophagus too badly damaged. Died with his head in water trough. Another of his dogs went out on his own unbeknownst to him - not a recommended or intended thing. Got hung up in the wire and the coyotes took their revenge right where he was hung up. Found him in the morning. No left one alive to elaborate but that is what I remember around the kitchen table. Older brothers are gone but they caught the tail end of Grandpa's grayhound days. Their experiences were coming back excited and bruised after bouncing across pastures lickity-split in the cab of an early 40s pickup truck. That was after he didn't ride horses anymore. A rope routed over the cab where he could pull it to open a gate on the dog box in the back. Boys said those dogs would bound off the top of the cab, hit the hood one time and be off like rockets. You can imagine the excitement for a couple 5 and 6 year olds. Us little brothers sure had our mouth opened while listening to their stories and Brothers Matt and Mark told me in later years how Gramma would give Grandpa the dickens if he brought them home with knots on the top of their head from hitting the cab, like he sure enough did a time or two. Can you imagine that nowadays? I spent a lot of time as a grown man on that farm visiting Gramma. It was just outside Winfield Kansas.
Sgt Dog, it's still happening much the same today.
Here's a Kansas Coyote hunt
Here's a Kansas Coyote hunt
Holy Smokes, almost feel sorry for the Coyote. I don't, but almost.....
I remember my uncle saying his dogs would pin the coyote down and he'd go in and put his boot on the throat and the lead dog (which was always on the throat) would release as he moved in, then he would whack it on the head with a hammer to save it from getting a bullet hole in the pelt. I always thought that was really hardcore and I wasn't sure I could do that part.
I like the idea of the greyhounds killing it better.
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This is what I was always told. On one of my old driving routes, I used to pass by a house that had turtle shells hanging on the posts.
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