The
Last, Worst, and Best Day of the Season
Article from May
- Jun 2003 Buckeye Trapper
by Justin
Walters
The day started like all of the other days of the 2001 trapping
season. I had managed to get a little trapping in here and there,
between going to school and doing homework. I had caught around
a hundred muskrats, seventeen raccoon, two grinners, my first
red fox, along with two others, and a half dozen mink. My season
ended pretty quickly when the hard freeze came right before Christmas.
The freeze ended my muskrat trapping because I trap mostly ponds.
All I had out now was a few mink sets in a creek on the other
side of town and two fox traps that produced the other reds. One
of the fox traps was in a field by my house. It was in the perfect
location. The dirt hole was set in the corner of a soybean field
where a road ran into the field. This was the only access point
to the field where the fox ran. My dad caught fox in the same
spot for years. This is where I had caught my first red two weeks
ago. I remade the set and had not caught anything since.
Today I had decided that this would be the last day my traps
would see action until next trapping season. The day was December
28 and there was a good two inches of fresh snow on the ground.
As my dad and I rounded the corner of the field my hopes of another
red sank when I saw two dogs standing by where my dirt hole once
was. As I approached the set I could see that I had caught the
biggest dog by the front pad. A thousand things were running through
my mind. Whose dogs were they? Were they mean? If so, how mean?
As I got closer I found out that they were mean and that the person
who owned them must be financially unstable or lazy, because the
big one had an old collar with about ten different pieces of chain
cobbled up for a lead. All of this mess was wrapped around the
chain of my 1-1/2 BMI coilspring.
The animal was on the thin side with large mats of fur covering
most of its body. As for the smaller dog it looked a little better.
I guess the two were familiar with each other, because when I
went to get a closer look the little one started growling and
took off after me. I ran back to the old red Chevy S10 and discussed
this predicament with my father. He said, "Son we have two
options. We either call the dog warden and have him come get them
out or we let them go ourselves."
We sat in the truck for a few minutes and tried to figure out
which option was the best for the dogs and for ourselves. My dad
and I were not vaccinated for rabies and we knew how bad the shots
were if you were bitten. We figured that the dog warden was out
of the question because it would take too long and we had the
other sets to pull. So we decided that we would release them ourselves.
I mean come on how hard could it be? We had let go a 60-pound
plus female beaver a few years back that I caught in a raccoon
snare by a pond.
We then drove back to the house and got all the things that
we thought we would need, and put them in the back of my dad's
pick-up. We grabbed our release pole that we used for fox trapping
and the homemade one that my dad used to use before we bought
one. We also took two walking sticks, an old coat, and two pairs
of thick leather gloves. Now we were off driving down the road
that led to the set. I said a prayer that the dogs would be gone
but they weren't. Dad drove the truck right up to the set so we
could jump in if the situation got out of control. Dad's plan
was to catch the little dog first and put him in the back of the
truck since we had a truck cap. Then we could deal with the big
one.
We put on our gloves, I grabbed the new catchpole, and dad got
the old one. I went right up and tried to get the loop on the
little one's neck but he went up under the big dog's feet. He
then persisted on growling at me. I guess I just made a distraction
for dad because within a second his pole had the small one. The
little dog started whining and dragging his rump as we put him
in the bed and shut the door. Next we went for the big one. Dad
once again prevailed in catching the big dog with his catchpole.
This left me the job of releasing the dog's foot and untangling
the mess of chain. Dad told me to put the coat over the dog's
head to calm it down. It also wouldn't be able to see where I
was. Dad then held the dog with the pole as I stepped on the springs
of the trap and unwrapped the chain. I decided it was too dangerous
to try to unhook the chain from the collar because of the mouth
full of pearly whites.
We then made our way to the truck. I got there first because
I didn’t have 40 pounds of muscle wanting to go every way
but towards the truck. I got in the passenger's side and shut
the door. I then crawled across the seat and opened dad's door.
He was nearly exhausted from holding onto the dog, so he just
sat down on the seat and closed the door on the catchpole. My
dad then pushed the release and the dog ran off down the fencerows.
Dad and I took a minute to regain our strength. We then went out
and dropped the tailgate. Within a flash we were back in the truck.
We watched as the little one walked out onto the edge of the truck
bed and deposited a brown "present" on the tailgate
right before he jumped off. I couldn't believe what he just did.
I mean we helped out his buddy and then he does this.
We weren't out of the woods yet thought. I asked dad if he saw
it run off and he said, "No, why?" I told him that I
didn't either. We then started looking around for the little dog
when dad started up the truck and revered her up. All of a sudden
there it went from under the truck and in the direction of the
other dog.
Dad gave me a high five and we were off to check our next and
last set out on a farm about a half-mile away. As we neared the
field where the other trap was set, I could tell we had something,
even though the trap was on the far side of the field. We were
probably about 600 to 700 yards away, so I knew it had to be big.
Dad started mumbling and saying something about another dog. I
was too busy to comment on his reaction because I was getting
my new spotting scope that I got for Christmas set up on the truck
window. As I zoomed in on the catch circle I could see that we
either had a huge German Shepherd or a coyote. Dad didn't believe
me until he looked for himself. Dad said something about it being
another dog, because there aren't any coyotes out here. I took
another look but couldn't really tell. So dad started the truck
and drove towards the set. When we got within a hundred yards
dad shut off the truck and I got a closer look. I had a loss for
words. It wasn't a dog it was my first coyote! I took off running
towards the set to get a good look at him. It turned out to be
a big old male that ended up tipping the scales at nearly forty-five
pounds. This turned out to be the last, worst, and best day of
the season. ### Justin Walters, 3060 Panther Dr. N.E., New Lexington,
OH 43764
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