We deer hunt with dogs where I come from. I was on stand one afternoon, back to the river when the dogs jumped and headed my way. After a good chase, I saw a doe swiming the river down the river a few yards from me. It happens, and I'm not sure now if does were legal anyway. I watched her come out of the river, and climb the bank on the other side, just as the dogs got there. Before I could cut them off and get them leashed, splash, they were in the river, after her.
I watched as three or four dogs swam the river, and laughed out loud. There was one little dog, a short legged beagle named "Shorty" mixed in with them. Shorty had climbed up on one of the bigger dogs back and was riding along. Every once in a while, he'd give a feeble kick, and a half hearted bark, as if to say, "Come on guys...let's go." He jumped off when his ride started to climb out on the other side, and off he went.
One other one.
My buddy and I were heading back to the club house, at the end of the last drive. We were following another pickup, owned by a fellow who was about 80 years old. Suddenly the pickup stopped, the door flew open, and this 80 year old man, rolled out, and took off across the cut bean field, at a full run. We figured he'd lost his mind, when he got to the honeysuckle pile at the edge of the field and started stomping around. Then he bent over, rummaged around a bit and came up with two, wiggling, screaming, baby 'coons.
Holding them by the nap of the neck, he walked back to my truck, held them up and asked "Y'all want a baby 'coon? They make great pets." Those things were hissing, and popping their teeth and clawing at the air. They looked like anything but a "great pet" and I'm not a "pet person" anyway. No way I wanted one. Neither did my buddy.
So the old man, looking rather dejected I must say, carried them back and tossed them into the honeysuckle, got back in his truck and went on the clubhouse.