For several years I was fortunate enough to bear hunt behind some of the best Plotts in the country . . which I guess means in the world. They belonged to a number of different veteran hunters and breeders and represented several strong families of dogs. But when I spent several months hog hunting with Bob Owens in winter 07/08 it forced me to reevaluate what a dog was capable of and gave me a new outlook on how dogs worked in general. He had a gyp named Dot that was just plain spooky. Sometimes I wasn't sure if she even tracked or trailed . . or even went looking for hogs. It was like she just had a radar. On any number of occasions I watched as the woods were hunted out by good dogs . . and afterwards, half jokingly . . either myself or someone else would suggest that we turn Dot loose. And time after time she'd limp out on three legs and bay multiple hogs where they previously had not existed. She was ugly and had bad conformation. Not a very good mouth. She doesn't seem to have been much of a reproducer. But before her I was convinced that cur dogs were hot nosed squirrel dogs and lacked the conviction to do what came naturally to most hounds. And she was ten years old or older the first time I saw her. She'd been injured badly years before. A big boar had bit her back leg in half and it still took a four wheeler going at top speed over a half mile to run her down and catch her off the boar while the severed leg was spinning freely like a windmill fan. So, admittedly, that one got away. But not very many more. She was quick. She was fearless and determined. She was smarter than most folks' kids and she was rougher than a damned stucco toilet seat. She really was greater than the sum of her parts.
I was pretty serious about Plotts. And about bear hunting. I don't have Plotts anymore. Not because there aren't plenty of great ones out there. Not because I think there's anything consistently better for catching bears. But because I'd rather spend the rest of my years fooling around with lesser dogs trying to produce another like Dot . . than to own a truckload of good ones that will somehow always seem like punks next to that old pointy headed bitch.
Dot (lying down) in 2009.
