today at 8:00 a.m.
The frantic barking of the dogs drove us deeper into the hollow. We had made a pact at the beginning of this hunt to take it easy and not go too fast, especially uphill. After hearing the intensity of the barking of the two squirrel dogs, everything went out the window.
All over the world, it sounded like they were saying, “Where are you? Come here quick! We’ve got a wooded one!”
I looked at my friend Chris, who was breaking up the brush a few feet to my right. If anything, he was even more determined to get to the dogs than I was. The ancient attraction of hunters to dogs drew us forward, heedless of rocks and brambles and the angle of the hill.
“You