As it is known, there is always two sides to a good hunting story. One version comming from each person involved. My hunting experience with Larry Parker in the Calcasieu swamp was no different than any other story. Though what happened will stay quite vivid in my memory for a very long time.

I met Larry while playing around on the computer one night in the Hog chat room, sponsored by Jeff and Jeanne Treder of Baydog Online. We got to talking, traded dog pics, hunting stories, etc. and decided to try and hook up one day over at his house for a little hog hunt. After playing phone tag for a couple of days, and a barrage of e-mails being swapped back and forth, it finally came down to me swinging by after I made a run up to Bossier City to pick up some furniture from ma's house...was moving into a larger house at the same time in Galveston, Tx..

Got to his house pretty late that Friday night, we sat around swapping story's. Watched a home made hog hunting video or two, picking on the camera mans unsteady hand who's name I won't reveal for embarassment to that guy, he had to be lead to a couple of bays by his suspenders. Then we discussed what the attack plan would be for in the morning. Knowing my dog didn't have any experience in the woods to speak of and not knowing for sure how he would be in the real deal, it was decided that Larry's two dogs would be cut loose first, then Choctaw (my dog) would catch up at the bay if we were lucky enough to find a hog.

That night I had a real hard time sleeping. My dog insisted on baying the horses in the pasture right outside the door where I was sleeping. This in turn would get all of Larry's dogs going. Needless to say Choctaw had his life threatened quite a few times that night. Larry slept through the whole thing, woke up as spry as a cricket the next morning. I felt like death warmed over, with my every bit of 1-2 hours of snoozing time.

We were up pretty early, and a few gallons of coffee was desperately needed in my case. After a brief discussion on who's ma makes the stronger brew we started getting ourselves ready. We did get pretty detailed for awhile a the coffe bit, descriptions ranging from dissolving the rust on a nail to thick syrup that couldn't be shaken off a spoon. Finally we did get ready, loaded up the dogs in the dog boxes that were on the back of his two four wheelers. Let me tell ya, my dog ain't a small Catahoula and it was quite a challenge to get him in that darn box! When the wrestling match was over we headed out in the woods about 1 1/2 hours after first light.

Riding around for awhile looking for any fresh hog sign, having a real tough go at it, the water was up in the river bottoms which may have helped the hog to descided to relocate to higher ground. Larry mentioned an area where he knew some shoats and sows were at. Having no luck anywhere else we decided to give it a try. A slight alignment problem and a low tire on the four wheeler I borrowed for the day was making my arms wear out. Getting tiered of fighting the handle bars to go straight. In addition the two dogs, Choctaw and Larry bull dog, were getting on my nervs with thier constant whining to be let out of the boxes. I was all for it, anything to get me off that four wheeler for awhile.

Arriving at a place with shoat tracks every where on the ground we decided to cast out the dogs and see what turned up. Larry cut his two dogs loose, making this strange grunting sound for his "get out and find" command. I like to just say "get" personally. They were gone for quite awhile, only a slight trail of smoke was still lingering in the air from the trail they blazed taking off through the mud. He said they were probably on a hog being gone this long then proceeded to pull out his tracking reciever. Larry set it up and turned it on ...silence, he checked the batteries, they were good. "Hmm, they must be out of range", he said. I was thinking he didn't check the batteries in the collars to make sure they were good. Simple mistake to make early in the morning.

Well we rode back as far as we could to where Larry thought they might be, sure enough you could barely hear them baying thier hearts out something fearce. Getting alot closer, I cut Choctaw loose, he ran up about 50 yards and started what we thought was booger barking. Then reality hit me as I saw this small tree move and what I thought was a bush at its base turned around to face the new dog on the sceene. Guess Larry didn't see the same thing because he thought the hog was on the other side of his dogs, "no Larry, its right there, between your dogs and us!" I told him. Just then it took off ...a very big, very red, Russian boar hog.

Having never seen a Russian hog before, I was dumb founded at how huge this monster was. All I had seen were those little black ones around 150 -200 pounds that run around South Sarasota county in Fla. where I had hunted a bit while in High School, and a few others a little larger on my property in N. Bossier Parish La.. Could say my eyes were pretty big at that moment.

The race was on! My dog, to my disappointment came back after the hog hit the slough for a swim, island hopping, Larry's dogs stuck to that big red boy like glue. The water was up pretty high like I said and was to deep to walk across in most spots. So Larry went back to his uncles cabin, that was near by, to borrow a john boat to get across. He left me standing at the bank waiting impatiently trying to keep an ear to the dogs. I herd this strange rumbling sound comming up the trail, it was Larry dragging the boat behind his 4 wheeler, with of all things for a paddle ...a shovel, beggars can't be choosers I reminded myself while shaking my head baffled at his choice. Loaded up Choctaw now renamed knothead for bomeranging, his white bull dog, his tracking equipmentand rusty rifle of his ( I thought that if he fired it I would have to somehow carry him back), myself and my .44 caliber black powder Colt Navy replica pistol. I had brought it along just in case a moccasin or a gator decided to try and make our lives more interesting besides I really like that pistol. Fighting the current all the way across the slough, paddling with a shoval, we finally got to the other side only to discover that we would have to drag the boat with us because the hog had already decided to go on to the next island.

Tip toeing toward the bay, after crossing that slough, Larry tells me not to shoot any thing with my Josey Whales pistol. "Allright" I agreed, "but then why am I packing it along and being ever so careful to keep the powder dry?" " For protection only" he replied.

That darn hog bolted again, breaking bay number 3 or 4, its hard to remember due to the events that were about to happen very soon. It crossed yet another, shallower slough, the dogs were on it hard this time. It was going to have a real hard time breaking this bay. All three dog were fired up and working it hard not giving it a chance to make them run some more. Now I don't know who said hogs can't swim but they forgot to tell this one.

I was in the lead looking like something that came out of a war movie, wearing some old BDU's left over from my army days, that I brought along to keep out the briars. Larry had said were pretty thick in spots. He wasn't lying there either. As a result I got to choose where to cross the slough. Picked a pretty good place, about half way up my chest, keeping my cigs and camera dry in my top pockets. The dogs were finally holding the hog at bay.

We were getting close enough to cut the catch dog loose. She was getting real excited wanting to get some pork chops for dinner, so we let her go. That dog was a gone pecan, hitting that hog in about 1 minute or less. When we ran up to the bay she was hanging on to an ear with all she had. The hog was spinning round and round, like a watch gone nuts, trying to cut her off and not doing a bad job of cutting her either. She was in bad shape and needed help fast.

Need to stop here a bit and try to describe where the hog was being bayed. Thick briars were on one side and not one good respectable tree nearby. Only more vines, underbrush, a few saplings, a small clearing, more briars and a large fallen tree was what we had to deal with. On top of that it was a little muddy from all of the recent rain.

Larry tried to take the shortest route to catch the hog, right through the briars. Made it about 3 feet before getting so tangled he had to back out, gaining a few little character marks in the process. While he was fighting the vines, I had managed to work around to a small clearing on the other side. Larry called out that he couldn't make it and I was going to have to throw this big boy down. The hog was killing the bull dog. OK, so the three bay dogs were on the far side with the hogs full attention focused on them. This is going to be pretty easy I thought, just sneak up from behind grab and throw it off balance, should go down pretty easy ....WRONG! Just as I had my hands near its hind legs to grab, Choctaw comes from my left side, bites it on the tail turning it. Before I knew it, I was staring at 3 inch tusks, clicking teeth, which were all attached to the business end of this very unhappy Russian boar. I jumped back hands in the air, thankful they were still attached to my arms, then Larry shouts out "LOOK OUT HE'S GOING TO CHARGE!" Sure enough, as he was yelling it, that hog was fast covering the 4 feet between it and myself. Not having tree one to jump behind to let it go past. Not having a single limb to try to jump up too. Let me tell ya this, my adreanalin was pumping so hard at that moment that limb could have been 30 feet off the ground, I may have missed it on the way up, but I definitely would have caught it on the way down. Only thing I had to even slow it was the whimpy black poweder pistol in my belt. Performing the fastest quick draw in my life, I somehow managed to give it a 200 grain headache. That hog was so close that the flame comming out of the barrel burned the hair off it's head right above the eyes leaving a small bald spot. That sucker jumped back, shook its head, decided it didn't want anymore of me, then headed for the clearing where it just so happened Larry had managed to get to in time to see me perform my wild west draw with it. As I turned my head I saw Larry horizontally falling about 4 feet off the ground letting out a howl that could have been heard for miles. Come to find out he had managed to get himself tangled once again in the other vines nearby trying to get out of this ticked off hogs way.

Two dogs stayed on it. Larry's pup and knothead, Casino as it turned out was very gun shy and headed away from the gun shot with very little hesitation. I saw Larry get up so I figured he was alright, then caught the bull dog who was still going after the hog. Gotta admire that determination, although she was moving alot more slowly from loss of blood. Noticing her neck was cut really bad, I knew she probably wasn't going to make it. She was sliced from her ear to her shoulder, a good cut collar would have probably saved her for another day of hunting. We let the hog go, had more pressing matters at hand now trying to save the catch dog. Had to at least try to save her if it was at all possible. Larry led the way out and as a result he chose the crossings, this time the water was almost over my head, but only near his shoulders. Larry's a big boy if you have'nt ever met him and he hasn't missed many meals. Packing her up in the boat after hiking about a mile out of the wooded island. We fought hard to get back to my first aide kit, that had a sutcher kit inside, sitting worthlessly on the four wheelers. She gave her last gasp just as we hit the bank next to the four wheelers. A good dog lost from human error.

Now we did have a good time, my yearling leopard performed pretty good for his first time out until he almost got me killed performing his rookie move (conditional bravery you could say). It would have been better if Larry's dog hadn't of had a shortened life span, but that is one of the hazards of being a hog dog. A very real possibility that everyone has to face sooner or later if they are going to hunt wild hogs in hawg territory. Larry's dogs performed excellently, some of the best I have ever seen to date. Some day I'll be able to get a couple of Casino's pups to dig holes in my yard in between hunts. Since then we have become pretty good friends since sharing this near death experience with that huge Russian hog. He claimed it was 270 pounds, I said closer to 300, yet in hind sight it was probably a little over 250. Adreanalin really does effect your perseption quite a bit. Someday this fall he's going to come over here and experience what hunitng in a salt mash is all about. I can't wait that long because it's going to be alot of fun too.

Lessons learned:

Always carry a dog first aide kit with you in a back pack or whatever. It doesn't do any good sitting back at camp, on the motor cycle, or in the truck.

Always use a cut collar on all of your dogs and cut vest if possible on catch dogs.

Never let Larry choose the water crossings.

If Larry says don't worry it's just a shoat they are on...hang on tight your in for a wild adventure through the Calcasieu river bottoms..