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I reckon that some dogs in some lads heads and minds are legends to them,everyone has 1 special terrier that sticks in there mind for life,like that old dog in my avatar,he done it all week in week ou

I can remember my early days as if it were yesterday,the smell of cut wood in the back of an old escort van where i sat surrounded by all the digging kit and dogs and ferrets if we were ratting .Norm

Just talking to me old father and we've only seen one lol , it was a border dog called billy my father can even remember he's KC name it was Dandyhow Brusselsprout lol such a silly name for a truelly

How about some legends of terriers, from when lads, lasses, first got into hunting. Wever it was a mungrel type in them days, or a russel, border, lakeland, patt or other crosses, breeds, Glenn, etc. When i started tagging along, the lad i knew had a border lakelan . Mother, small russel, he was the dog the were doing all the digging to ( Tod) . Cracking lad to, the and we. Always had em out!

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I've had a few that were outstanding. I say that without bragging. I've seen alot of dogs and these were top class for what I needed.

My first was Dart, a Manchester terrier of all things. He never was used to ground but I treed over 130 raccoons with him by the time he was 1 1/2. That's not an easy feat fellas for any dog. I could guarantee we'd catch something every time we went. He only liked coon so I never dug to him on nutria or beaver or anything else that often goes to ground here.

 

Mosby was next. He was half border half patt. He entered a nutria set that would've been 5 feet of digging through roots. But he killed and dragged his game out before we even got through the first foot. He had a short career due to getting ran over. He never went to ground that he didn't stay and rarely was the game alive. I loved that little dog.

Rosco was at the same time as my Mosby. He was nuts, as in literally mental. He was two when I got him and I couldn't get him to ground. I thought Id have to put him down. One night in a barn I had a coon in the hay stack. He lit up and hit it. The dog never looked back. He was not boring but he was consistent. If he disappeared for more than a bit and you couldn't hear him, you could be sure it was because you weren't where he was with his game. He'd always have his game. I gave him to a fool new dog man who promised he'd work him. The dog was kenneled the rest of its life and I didn't hear of it again as the man changed his number and moved. But my friend found the dog about ten years later. He said the dog had gotten to such a pitiful state that he had to be put down. That dog was as good as I've ever seen.

Magua was by far the best dog of any kind I've seen hunt. No joke, he was better than most hounds as a tracker, killed every nutria he ever found to ground, could still kill coons in his old age without any canines left. And is one of a very few terriers that could keep an otter held in its holt till dug to. He died valentines night 2014. I still dream I hunt with him every few nights. I miss him like he was a person. Sometimes I swore he could speak English as well as a human. He'd learn anything you showed him as soon as you showed it.

I'll miss all these dogs. The truth is, there's a limit to how good a dog can be and I think no matter how good a dog gets for me in the future, I'll never think of it as as good as the above named dogs.

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Just talking to me old father and we've only seen one lol , it was a border dog called billy my father can even remember he's KC name it was Dandyhow Brusselsprout lol such a silly name for a truelly hard dog . Anyway so the story goes a very good local digging man used to buy border dogs of an old lady that used to show them . She sold him Billy because he had one ear bigger than the other . He took the dog home and put it in a run with another dog and bitch when he got up in the morning the other dog and bitch where both dead and billy was sitting on top of the kennel , he was only 12 months old then. That done the bloke as he didn't like fighters so he sold it to another man . He had him until he was two only trouble was this man used to supplement he's wage by selling fox pelts and billy used to smash them so he sold him to another man . He wasn't really a digging man but used to bush him with he's lurchers anyway after him having to dig him out of another fox earth he got the hump and sold him to my fathers mates and this is where he earned he's reputation.

Billy learned to be sensible with plenty of graft but could go through the gears when needed. I can mind my father coming home late one Christmas Eve and my mother having a right go at him because he'd been out digging with he's mates . He said I can't help it a dog is stuck to ground my brothers and me said who is it dad he replied Billy's stuck under a concrete slab that's got metal bars running through it . Christmas morning no dad he was up early and home late then Boxing Day morning dad was gone . Eventually he come home that night stinking of drink as they'd got billy out that afternoon and they'd thought they'd better celebrate with a few jars , mum is still narked with him to this day thirty odd years later lol.

Anyway billy was bred to all my fathers digging mates bitches , Rosie a jrt x bull ,my fathers bow legged jack bitch Sue and another of he's mates bitch they used to say it was a lakie but in truth it was a brown mongrel terrier . All the pups worked to some degree . One pup was sold to a pet home and the woman gave it back because it killed her cat and that one turned out to be a decent digging terrier. They all where scatter bred pups no line breeding they weren't even the same breed and he through more workers than not . Eventually men got to know billy through plenty of worker and bitches where bought to him and again he still threw plenty of grafters. Billy is still talked about to this day by the older men that dug In my county . Sorry for the long yarn lads just thought billy was worth a mention , that and I'm bored lol .

 

Don't like fighters,but there is something special about a dog sitting on the kennel all innocent,with two dead dogs in the run LOL
. What a nob
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Game housed up in a drain is not easy to cope with as the terrier cant push it to a stop as there seldom is a stop in a drain so its up and down for hours unless your lucky enough to bolt it,its in situations like that where a hard type dog will take a lot of grief as pick and bar's did and paid the ultimate price for his bravery ,dog done what he was bred to do and went the distance but paid the price.

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Can depend on the pipes, width, size, alot we used to find were just about able for a dog to get through, snider pipes, i saw little yappers going through to bolt. Ones we done when teenagers, carried waterat ttimes of year and fierce cold water, plastic bottles and stuff up there. Never stopped the dogs we seen. The very best of hard dog i saw, pulled the old man, time and timeagain but we couldn't get hold of em at the end entrance, heavy quarry, which you could hear scraping aroundwwith it, nothing for his foe tocling to, and then the go bback and forth, and getting grasp, breathing between them. Fair couple of foxes, went well, some fairly hard

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