History

 


With Goofy, ½ greyhound, ¼ staghound, ¼ coonhound, “The best all-around courser I’ve ever owned”.

 


A Backward Glance at American Coursing and High-Lonesome Hounds

 

     Sighthounds and their owners offer a course in sociology as well as a study of dogs. I say that because there have always been identifiable divisions within the sighthound world in North America. Among people, these categories include: the show people or “fanciers,” the lure chasing people, the open field coursing people (for this article I’ll call them the “coursers”), and what I call the “hunters” or the “good ol’ boys”. Among dogs, there are on the one hand the AKC registered sighthound breeds (Afghan, Borzoi, Greyhound, Irish Wolfhound, Saluki, Scottish Deerhound, Whippet) and on the other that long list of unregistered hounds — mixed breeds, hybrids, staghounds, lurchers, longdogs, coldbloods, et al.

     There is some overlap of course, at least among people who own AKC hounds. It is not uncommon for fanciers to run their dogs on the lure; it is less common to find a show champion that is also a superior jackrabbit courser, though it does happen. Still, most people with AKC hounds can be categorized (I hate to say stereotyped) by their major interest — showing, or lure chasing, or running live jackrabbits in organized competitions such as those put on by the National Open Field Coursing Association (NOFCA). And out on the fringe, overlapping with nobody, are the good ol’ boys.

     Of course, some of the good ol’ boys are women; I guess we could call them “good ol’ girls”. For convenience, I’ll use the masculine here, but whatever the gender, the hounds these folks run are seldom registered with any organization. The occasional purebred dog found here is usually an NGA greyhound, but since such hounds often break down in the open field their primary use to the hunter is to breed more speed into a pack of unregistered, mixed breed, dogs. Generalizing, these hunters are rural people; coursers are urban people. And when these rural folks run their dogs, it’s not in any organized coursing event. Most never use the word “coursing;” they “hunt” with hounds.

     My first two coursing hounds were purebred, registered dogs: a Labrador retriever and a Doberman pincher. I had a vague notion of entering the Lab in field trials (I had been a duck and partridge hunter in years past) and entering the Doberman in dog shows, but what I ended up doing was exercising them on jackrabbits on the outskirts of San Antonio, Texas. I was soon captivated by the chase, even though my pack was too slow to threaten a strong jackrabbit.

     Gradually it dawned on my dim brain: A coursing enthusiast should have coursing hounds! I read books, I went to dog shows and greyhound tracks, I wrote letters and asked questions of those more knowledgeable than I (at this stage of my life with gazehounds, everyone was more knowledgeable than I). I took a shine to the saluki, acquired a female pup (Hilda) and a yearling male (Max), and immediately took them to the open field. This was the fall of 1969.

          Within a month we’d caught a mature jack in fair chase; I thought I had the best pack in south Texas. Then, one morning on the ranch where I hunted, I stumbled onto a good ol’ boy. K.E. Magee was an old-timer, a veteran of World War I, and a longtime cowboy, dairy farmer, and houndman. His dogs looked pure greyhound to me but like their parents and grandparents they had no papers or tattoos. He called them “coldbloods,” or “field greyhounds”. Whatever their breeding, I could not believe the sprint they could pour on a jackrabbit. Mr. Magee in turn noticed my own hounds’ endurance (what he called “distance”) and the way they took the heat. Soon, Mr. Magee insisted I take one of his hounds, a pup named Zeke who was just about ready for his first hare. “He’ll turn that jack early on in the race,” he said, “then Max and Hilda can run it down.”


The early days of High-Lonesome Hounds. With the saluki, Max, and hotblood, Sally, northwest Minnesota, September 1971.

 


          Without realizing it, I had bridged a gap. I loved the saluki, and had two quality specimens that had AKC papers and were a credit to the breed wherever they stood. But my interest was hunting, not dog shows, and by the fall of ‘69 I already had a coldblood hound and a mixed pack. I was a “half and half,” one part courser, one part good ol’ boy.

     Thirty years later, my experience with hounds and coursing is still incomplete, but is probably more varied than most. I’m still bridging the gap. It’s a balancing act at times but I like it, for I find that hunters with unregistered hounds, and coursers who hunt with AKC dogs, each offer unique perspectives on coursing, and hounds with special abilities.

     Among the hunters I’ve run with, I recall Don Wells of North Dakota, whose greyhound/Rhodesian ridgeback crosses were marvelous hunters of the red fox; Pete Harty of Lubbock, TX, whose Afghan/Heinz 57 cross lurcher could consistently nail cottontails; Pete Mathwig of Minnesota, whose rough coated staghounds would sometimes take a fox, a coyote, and a whitetail jack all on the same day; Albert Hebbert of Nebraska, who took me out horseback with hounds in the Sand Hills where we hunted hares and coyotes in the way of General Custer and Theodore Roosevelt; David Hise of Roswell, NM, whose “Cunningham” strain of hounds had slick hair, alligator jaws, slanty eyes, and would not quit; and of course K.E. Magee of San Antonio, whose coldblood field greyhounds opened my eyes in coursing the blacktail jack.

     From the coursers I learned that some registered dogs can run with the best. I recall Reba (saluki) of Minnesota, a swift and relentless killer of strong whitetails; and the legendary Cirrus (saluki) and Strider (greyhound) of the California NOFCA hunts of the 1970s. They could run blacktails as if hound and hare were tied with a string. I remember a whippet fancier in Tucson, though I can’t recall his name, the only man I could find who had ever attempted the huge antelope jackrabbit of Arizona. He gave up on the sport, saying that while his whippets could occasionally catch one, they took a terrific kicking from hares that could weigh up to 15 lbs! But his experience led me to try the Antelope Jack myself, with a pair of salukis; an esoteric hunt for an exotic hare.


Badger, ½ saluki, ¼ staghound, ¼ greyhound; and Chance (silly puppy) 5/8 sighthound, 3/8 coonhound.

 


          Through the 1970s, High-Lonesome Hounds went from south Texas to northwest Minnesota. Salukis and Scotch Deerhounds were my breed for a time, but over the decade coldblood greyhounds, staghounds, longdogs and lurchers of one type or another were also part of the pack. Red fox and coyote were game along with the whitetail jackrabbit, and we sometimes used trail hounds, or trailhound/sighthound hybrids, for fox and coyote hunting on winter snows.

          With a move to southwest New Mexico in 1980 High-Lonesome Hounds began to evolve in a new direction. Day by day, the New Mexico desert hares (these are blacktail jacks) are the fastest, hardest, toughest, most enduring jackrabbits I’ve run in all the western states plus Canada and Old Mexico. Breeding, training, conditioning a pack of hounds that can catch a fair percentage of them is an on-going challenge. We have come to believe that the right combination of greyhound, saluki, and staghound blood offers the best chances for success. We’re getting better, but alas!, so are the hares.


Beechnut, a staghound by appearance, he’s ½ track greyhound by blood.