"Hello. My name is George ... now. I used to have another name; at least I think I did. That was a long time ago & I don't remember.

About a year ago, the only person I'd ever known dumped me in a strange place. It was dark & I was scared. I didn't know what would happen to me - I only knew that everything I had known was gone.

I hid behind a dog house. Once the light came, a stranger approached me & took me inside. There were a lot of other dogs there & I was even more scared than I was outside. The stranger was nice. She talked to me, fed me, & gave me a blanket. I waited there for someone I knew to pick me up & take me home. Little did I know that wouldn't happen, at least not the way I thought it would.

That lady, Monica Collins, was so kind & gentle. She told me I was safe & told me she'd help me. She said to be brave & she took my picture. I am not a brave dog but I stood there & she snapped some shots.  Of course I didn't know it, but those pictures - they saved my life."

On November 10th, 2012 a young Treeing Walker Coonhound was abandoned at the Mount Pleasant Animal Shelter in an outside pen. The photos taken by a dedicated volunteer were posted on the Coonhound Rescue Network page on Facebook and were shared no less than two dozen times by well-meaning hound lovers from across the country. In the post, Monica wrote:

Please help me find a place for a sweet hound they just got here at the shelter today. A young male, doesn't look quite a year old by his teeth, dumped in the outside pen. He has beautiful markings & long ears. Not sure what you would call him ... other than hound. He is very scared, but he does let you handle & pet him. I loved him & made sure he got a nice clean blanket to lay on. He wasn't sure what to do & sat & looked at it. He must have been outside all his little life.

My husband and I had often discussed bringing another hound into our lives and something about these pictures touched our hearts. The photos were heartbreaking – maybe it was the small cement cell he was in, the roach of fear in his back, or the string of stress-induced drool that hung from his lip. We shook on it – we'd try to give this dog a real home. After posting my initial interest and inquiring as to the logistics of getting the dog from northeast Texas to southeast Connecticut, a familiar voice chimed in, that of Jerry Dunham, a long-time, well-respected coonhound rescuer.

We already had two coonhounds, Clementine, a 6 year old Black and Tan Coonhound, and Sonny, a raucous 2 year old Redbone Coonhound. Naturally, we struggled with the ramifications of bringing a teenage, intact male, unknown dog into the midst of our home. Jerry contacted me via email and arranged, with Monica's help, more photographs and  the results of a temperament test. The boy was tested for food, dog, and cat aggression. He passed with flying colors.

Knowing there was a lot that could go wrong, but feeling as though it was the right thing to do, I contacted Jerry and  Monica giving the go ahead for the adoption to proceed. Needing a name for the necessary paperwork, my husband picked George. This would seem like the end of a sad story, but really it was just the beginning.

Over the course of the next week or so, flurries of emails were exchanged, advice was sought, phone calls transpired, and arrangements were made. As all the necessary details of a long distance adoption were being set in place the shelter filled up and our boy was placed on the PTS list. His time was up there and he needed to be removed from there immediately.

Dog Runner Pet Transport, the operation run by Elaine and  Dave Stutz, couldn't pick George up for another eight days. Through a network of very kind and selfless volunteers a local boarding facility in Mount Pleasant, Texas,was found that agreed to house George for one week. Unfortunately Dog Runner couldn't pick him up there due to logistics. George needed to be transported, for an overnight stay, near Plano, Texas. Bright and early on the morning of November 26th, he was picked up and  on his way to us.

That journey of over 1500 miles took four long days. In the meantime, we set things up at our home as best we could. We'd placed a crate in the living room, lined with a soft bed. An extra dog bowl and a new collar were purchased. I'd made a veterinary appointment for George on the following Monday and we had enlisted the help of a trusted friend of ours to help with dog introductions upon his arrival.

On Saturday, December 1st we got the call we'd been waiting anxiously for for over two weeks. The transport was not only on its way and joy of joys, it was running early! I was too nervous so I sat in the front seat, wringing my hands, as my husband drove. We met the transport in nearby Mystic, Connecticut on a cold, drizzling, snow spitting afternoon. Our first sight of George was of him stretching his legs and bawling at a passing horse drawn carriage. He looked young but bigger than I'd thought from the photographs I'd seen. He seemed happy. He seemed worthy. But best of all, he seemed like ours.

Once parked, I nearly leaped out of the car. We introduced ourselves to the Stutz's and thanked them. George was brought over to us and in an instant, he could tell something would be different. He was hesitant and uncertain. Of course part of me expected this but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed he didn't jump into our arms. I tried to bribe him with treats but slowly he backed away from me. I was nearly heartbroken. It was understandable though, this boy had been through so much and I'm sure he was very unsure as to whether this situation would last. In just a couple weeks he'd been dumped in the shelter, from boarding to boarding, living nearly a week in a crate on a trailer, and finally to us.

Dave and Elaine made encouraging small talk and held him as we slipped on his brand new collar. We said our good byes as Dave tenderly lifted him into the back of my car. I rode home in the back seat with George, hoping to make him feel a little more comfortable. He sat politely and quietly. All the while he looked out the window, wondering I'm sure, why he was here, who were these new people, what would become of him, and why it was so damn cold.

It's a very long way from Texas to Connecticut in more ways than one. Only part of George's journey was over, the next part was yet to begin. He was, for all intents and  purposes "home" even though he didn't know it yet.

"So that's the story of how I got my very own family. I can't believe how much has changed. Now I have a mom & a dad & a brother & a sister. I have a soft bed, my own blanket, & regular meals. I get petting & cuddles every single day. I get to go for long hikes in the park too. I'm learning a lot & trying to be a good boy. I love it here & my family loves me. Every day I think how lucky I am – it's been like winning the dog lottery!

It could have been different. I don't like to think about that. What if there had been no Monica? What if those people hadn't shared my pictures? What if my mom hadn't seen them? What if everyone had turned their backs & hadn't helped? Where would I be?"

The very sad fact is that without the generous help and support of so many kind-hearted people, George may have ended up like so many other hounds that get dumped in shelters – if they're lucky. His story has a happy ending but many, many other hounds won't get that. 

Coonhounds, by the dozen, are euthanized every single day because there is no one to help them, to want them, or to see their value as wonderful family members.

In rescuing this boy, experiencing the joy and love he has brought to our lives, I know we've only made a small difference to the situation. To George though, that difference is everything.

— By Ellen Jones

Her given name was Elisabeth Spain, but in her hometown of Owensboro, Kentucky, she was known simply as Riley. A typical teenager in some ways, certainly. Unique in others, absolutely.

After enduring months of crippling pain, she was finally diagnosed with hypermobility (a condition where joints pop in and out of their sockets) and fibromyalgia (the result of having contracted the H1N1 virus) early in her freshman year of high school. Everyone predicted a future of impaired motor function and limited possibilities for her. But not Riley.

By the time she was a sophomore, she proved just how wrong they were. And just how much of a typical 16-year-old she could be. She was surrounded by caring friends, had a wonderful boyfriend, and drove her own car. Atypically, she worked after school at the Town Square Animal Hospital and Pet Resort. Why? Because animals were her passion.

One night in late November of 2011, as she was following some of her friends on Facebook, she did what she usually did. She clicked onto the page of the local kill shelter, glancing at the photos of the dogs, many with comments such as "cute" and "I’d love to take this one home" underneath them. Scrolling further, she was suddenly brought up short. Staring out at her with a long, sad face and long, droopy ears was an extremely thin Treeing Walker coonhound with no comments under his photo at all. His name was Jethro. 

And something deep inside Riley responded. She promptly burst into tears because, as she herself explained, “he looked so sad, and no one felt his sadness.” When she saw that he was scheduled to be euthanized in two days, her heart sank. She quickly printed out his picture and took the paper Jethro to bed with her. 

By the following afternoon, she had made up her mind. She told her mother that she wanted to save Jethro’s life. Her mother was stunned. They already owned two poodles. Why would her young daughter who loved two beautiful poodles suddenly want to save the life of an old, ugly and dying coonhound? But Riley was adamant. She could neither be swayed nor moved. This was what she wanted to -- needed to -- do. In the end, her mother grudgingly relented.

But her permission came with three rules. One. If they did get Jethro out in time, Riley would have take him to daycare at the animal hospital with her every day. Two. At home, he would have to stay in a crate. Three -- and the hardest for Riley to accept – she had one month to rehome him or he would be returned to the shelter. To the agitated teen, all this meant was a stay of execution, a temporary reprieve for this hapless dog. And she was determined to do better than that. But for the moment, there was no time to waste. And so she quickly agreed to her mother’s terms. 

They drove to the shelter, arriving exactly ten minutes before closing time. And those ten minutes literally saved Jethro’s life. They were taken back to the kennels and neither of them was prepared for what they saw. The coonhound was scarcely more than skin and bones and too weak to stand or walk. A tearful Riley ran to him, and the ailing dog had just enough strength to lift his head and lick her face. Riley immediately took this as a sign. She was doing the right thing. And Jethro knew it too. As her mother signed all the necessary papers, they were told that prior to his leaving the shelter, Jethro would have to be neutered. They were also warned that because of his age and poor health, it was doubtful that he would even survive the surgery. 

After worrying about him the entire next day, Riley and her mother drove up to the vet’s office just in time to see a dog catcher dragging Jethro away. Riley jumped out of the car, picked up the scrawny, half-sedated dog and held him like a baby while the shelter was contacted. When Jethro was finally released into her safekeeping, an elated Riley exclaimed, “As I clung to my beautiful, alive, and slightly smelly, first foster dog, I was the happiest girl ever!” 

At home, both toy poodles seemed to understand what was happening, and after a few curious sniffs at Jethro and a few half-hearted barks at Riley, the pair headed to her bedroom. Next to her own bed was a crate filled with warm, cozy blankets and a wonderful new dog bed. Just for Jethro.

That night, Riley kept a watchful eye over the sleeping dog she had rescued. “I believe and always will,” she later said, “that Jethro knew he was finally safe from harm. The look in his eyes that first night hasn’t changed in 2 years. It’s a look of pure happiness and relief.” 

But ever conscious of her mother’s third rule, she kept her word and started Googling various coonhound and senior dog rescue groups. “Hi,” she wrote again and again. “My name is Elisabeth Spain. I’m 16 and I’ve saved a coonhound from being put down in Daviess County, KY. His name is Jethro. He’s 10 years old and what a wonderful dog he is. He loves to play ball and chase. He’s microchipped, neutered and up-to-date on his shots. I would love to keep him, but my mother has given me a month to either rehome him or find a rescue for him. CAN YOU PLEASE HELP ME? Transportation is not a problem. Thank you for any help. Love, Elisabeth and Jethro.”

For every hopeful email she sent out, every answer she received was discouragingly the same. None of the organizations could take Jethro. They were simply too full. Undeterred, she cast her net wider until finally, her efforts were rewarded. Coonhound Companions replied that although they themselves couldn't take him, they would help her rehome Jethro within the month.

And they did. They located a suitable adopter in Spring, Texas and arranged for Jethro’s transportation there. With mixed emotions, Riley relinquished the dog she had only just gotten to know, convincing herself that it was best for Jethro and that she had kept her promise to her mother. But, in reality, it didn’t make letting him go any easier. Now all that remained of her own coonhound companion was his crate, his dog bed and her printed picture of him.

Within 24 hours of arriving at his new home, however, Jethro escaped through the fence and disappeared. Thanks to Facebook, people in the town were alerted to the situation, prompting them to put up posters everywhere and search the shelters. He was found 4 days later. It seems he had wandered into an open garage only blocks from his adoptive home and was taken in by the owner. At first the man had considered keeping him, but then changed his mind. He brought Jethro to the local shelter, where he was immediately recognized as the missing dog in the posters. Unfortunately, though, when Jethro was returned to his adoptive home, some family issues arose that jeopardized his safety, and Coonhound Companions quickly stepped in.

Riley, meanwhile, had spent the entire week without Jethro in utter misery. She realized how attached she had become to him and how desperately she missed him. When she heard that he couldn’t stay in his new home, she couldn’t have been happier or more relieved. What were the chances, she wondered, what were the chances. Acknowledging the depth of their daughter’s feelings for the dog she had rescued, her parents agreed that Jethro could return to Owensboro. He would stay with Riley’s father, who lived close enough for Riley to visit him. For Riley, it wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was a solution. Her beloved Jethro would be coming home!

But his homecoming would prove anything but simple. It was like a page torn from an old movie script – part comedy of errors, part Ripley’s Believe It or Not.  It began with Coonhound Companions arranging for Jethro to be surrendered to the Houston County Hearts Hound Rescue. While he was there, he underwent some much-needed dental surgery, paid by the Coonhound Companions "Long Ears Alive!" fund. Through Pilots ‘N Paws, he was flown to Little Rock, AK, where he was to be driven to Jonesboro for the night. Another pilot was to fly to Jonesboro from his home in Missouri to take Jethro to Kentucky Dam, where Riley and her father had agreed to meet them.

When the driver couldn’t make the trip to Little Rock, the original pilots flew Jethro on a circuitous route through several counties, picking up various bloodhound rescues along the way, until they finally reached Jonesboro. The next day, the plane in Missouri that had been reserved to fly to Jonesboro and pick up Jethro wasn't at the airstrip. The previous renter hadn’t returned it and no one knew where it was. 

When the plane eventually did show up, mechanical problems grounded it for days. Ultimately, the stranded pilot, sympathetic to the plight of the waiting dog and the anxious teenager, got in his car, and drove to Jonesboro himself. He picked up Jethro and drove all the way to Kentucky Dam, where the exhausted dog was reunited with an equally exhausted, but elated Riley. 

(While all of this had been happening to Jethro, young Riley had had a cancerous lesion 
removed from behind one ear.) 

Everything was forgotten though, when the “forever mommy” as Riley called herself wrapped her arms around her skinny, shaking hound and vowed to never let him out of her sight again. Rather than going home with her father, she returned to her mother’s house. And the slow but steady rehabilitation and revitilization of Jethro began. He gradually started putting on weight, pleasantly filling out his gaunt, long-legged frame.  He became Riley’s constant and adoring companion, one who lived to love and be loved. 

Riley soon discovered that the loyal and lovable Jethro also loved going for car rides and playing fetch. She learned how affectionate he was with other people and how good he was with other dogs. She found he loved to snuggle, to get his tummy rubbed and to watch TV with her. And each time she looked at him, she saw his gentle soul reflected in his eyes.
These were the best of times for the young girl and her dog, but punctuating them would also be the worst of times. 

Because, as the months passed, with each step forward, Jethro took another step back. He bounced physically from one health crisis to another (including the drainage of infected fatty tumors, irritable bowel disease and pancreatitis) and his doting, forever mom bounced emotionally with him. Every time the aging dog was hospitalized, the vet recommended that he be euthanized. But Riley wouldn’t agree and Jethro wouldn’t succumb. He rallied each time, just in time to get sick again. But neither girl nor dog gave up or gave in. United by bonds stronger even than love, they fought together and beat the odds together.

Tending to Jethro and seeing him improve under her care gave Riley an idea. Why couldn’t she look after other dogs the same way? At the animal hospital, she watched sick and injured animals coming and going all the time. And she knew that only one kind of animal interested her: the ill and unwanted. Like her beloved Jethro. With her mother’s permission, she became a foster for a local rescue called Saving Paws Animal Rescue of Kentucky (S.P.A.R.K.Y.). She fostered both puppies and kittens -- some for just a weekend, some for longer, and some for whom she herself found adoptive homes.

Then in the spring of 2012, she adopted (a decision she laughingly attributed to Jethro) a black coonhound/lab mix puppy. Her name was Lexi. She was part of a litter dropped on the side of the road and brought, sick and dehydrated, to S.P.A.R.K.Y. Riley and several other volunteers, together with a vet, nursed them all back to health. While the rest of the litter was adopted, Lexi remained the Riley and her family. And of course, Jethro, who couldn't have been happier.

“She’s brought out the puppy in this old man,” said Riley. “Since she’s been here, Jethro hasn't been in the hospital once. Its amazing! Lexi is also a blood donor at the animal hospital and Jethro encourages both of us all the way. He’s like our own little mascot.” 

When Riley decided to work at her cousin's veterinary clinic, faithful Jethro accompanied her there. Today, Jethro either cuddles with Riley in her bedroom or camps out in the backyard, depending on his mood. And the bond they share has only grown stronger with time. Riley is still the compassionate teenager who gave her heart to an ailing and aging dog. And Jethro is still the gentle survivor of a thousand scars who holds Riley’s young heart in his large, loving paws.

Article written by Nomi Berger. Nomi is the bestselling author of seven novels and one work of non-fiction. She lives in Toronto, Ontario, Canada with her first pet -- and the love of her life -- her adopted morkie, Shadow. Nomi now devotes all of her time volunteering her writing skills to animal rescue organizations both in Canada and the USA.

Just in time for Christmas…A new picture book about a hound (for children), We Love Lee
by Anne Wills

Dogs Finding Dogs (DFD), a nonprofit organization that uses search dogs to find lost pets, has just published a new picture book for young children, We Love Lee, by Chrissy Hoffmaster. It is also charmingly illustrated by Mary Booth. The book is about a Treeing Walker Coonhound finding his vocation as a search dog for lost pets. It is based on the (mostly) true story of DFD’s search dog Lee, handled by me, Anna. Proceeds from book sales will go to Dogs Finding Dogs’ “Walker Fund,“ which offsets costs of searches for lost pets for families that can’t afford a donation to DFD. Dogs Finding Dogs is purely donation financed.  We request that pet owners send us a donation for our services, but we will not turn down any plea for help because a family cannot afford to. 

While some of the details of We Love Lee are a little dressed up for fun, much of it is based on reality. Lee joined our team after he ran away from his foster home in Maryland and camped out in a patch of bamboo behind my local supermarket. I got the call from the rescue about him being missing two years ago on Easter Monday.

My veteran search dog Heidi and I found Lee immediately, but he was very scared. We took our time coaxing him out.  For two weeks, we did nothing but visit him with chicken, toys, and blankets. We set out a live trap for him with the blankets and treats inside.  Every time we went back to check it, Lee had pulled everything out and made a nest in the bamboo with them. Once, I put a leash on top of the trap while I was putting new bait in it, and left it there while I went back to the car for something else. When I got back--no more than three minutes later--Lee had snitched the leash as well!

Heidi is a German Shepherd Dog. Lee would come out to play with Heidi when we visited. I would watch him trace her every footstep, nose to the ground. It was marvelous to see. That made me decide to ask to keep him for Dogs Finding Dogs after we caught him.  And that is exactly what happened.  After six months of training and living with Heidi and me, he was transformed into “Super Hound Dog to the Rescue”!

It wasn’t easy, that’s for sure. Lee is a big funny hound, always wanting to run, leap, and spin in the air. He loves to have fun! That is mirrored in the book, which, featuring Lee, is fun and a little silly too, although educational as well.  While the international travel is fictional, Lee really did have a case finding lost ferrets, as in the book. In the real case, though, there were seven ferrets lost from one house, not just three. He found all seven safe and sound.  Lee also tracked down a lost mastiff in real life, and found a calico cat that was hiding under a deck.

Dogs Finding Dogs was formed as a 501c3 in September of 2008. Our motto is “Our Noses Know Where Your Pet Goes!”  Its main goal is to help reunite missing pets with their families.  By doing this, the pets return home and are saved from the threat of being euthanized as unwanted strays. We are proud of our working dogs, including search dog Lee. For a search and rescue dog to save the life of just one missing pet is a high honor. To save the lives of many is truly a blessing. Lee has already saved many lives.

Altogether, DFD has reunited over 4,000 missing pets with their families in just four years, either by counseling on the phone or by deploying SAR teams, And Lee, our beloved goofy fantastic coonhound, was one of those successful cases before he joined our team. 

The back story. Lee was in a high kill shelter down south in Darlington, South Carolina. He was turned in by his owner/breeder, who wanted Lee and his littermates put to sleep. This guy didn’t want any product of his breeding to do anything but hunt. Well, Lee hunts now, but not exactly what his breeder had in mind.

At the shelter in South Carolina, Lee was tied to an igloo shelter outside on concrete for almost a year before he was pulled and sent up to Maryland to a rescue.  When he arrived, he was so covered with pressure sores that he slept standing up. He did not know how to lie down to sleep.

Lee journeyed up to Maryland and was placed in a foster home with a young college student.  Not the best idea for a scared unsocialized hound dog.  Soon after he got there, Lee bolted out the door and found his way to a huge patch of bamboo in a vacant lot.

Since then, this dog that was thrown away, who slept standing up for over a month at my house, has become a success story. Lee’s story is heartwarming. Lee was given a chance and it turned out well. Of course, Lee had a lot of help from his friends, but he proved himself to be a hero. And he continues to lighten our hearts every day, especially because he has to spin in the air and jump like a kangaroo at least once on every track he is working.  Well, this helps to make people smile who are so sad and worried as we are looking for their pets.  Lee is truly the “Super Hound Dog to the Rescue!”

You can get a copy of We Love Lee from www.DogsFindingDogs.com.

I have a paypal button on our Website that says “Donate Now.” The book costs $12, plus $6 shipping and handling. Just donate $18 and say you want a copy of We Love Lee. 

Or, you can mail a check to Dogs Finding Dogs with a note requesting the book. Our address is:

Dogs Finding Dogs
P.O. Box 18244
Baltimore, MD   21227

However, to be sure to get a copy in time for Christmas, you would need to do that right away, by December 11.

Dogs Finding Dogs also has a Facebook page with some of the pages from the book. You can also reserve a copy there.

By Anna Nirva

When I opened the daily list from the Milwaukee pound, it seemed like the words throbbed on the screen: Animal ID # 239152 M 7Y 0M Am. Foxhound. This was bad news. A senior hound, a seven-year-old male, in the pound. I clicked the link and saw this picture.

Well, he didn't look much like a foxhound, more likely a treeing Walker coonhound, but he was definitely a hound and the worry in his face was palpable. Big old dirty knobby legs. Missing hair on the throat. I didn't think I could pull off saving this old boy but I knew I couldn't turn away either.

I emailed my contact Kevin to request the temperament test. His grades were worrisome: no A's; 4 D's; at least there weren’t any F's. “Comments & Recommendations: Dog is very skittish and fearful. Needs socializing. Did so-so on eval -- 4 D's -- all due to his fear. Would recommend that dog, if placed, go to rescue only -- would not be a good adoption candidate -- due to him being so terrified outside of the kennel.” Not good. I went to bed uneasy.

When I awoke, I was still thinking about him. I found a link to a video posted by volunteers. He was coughing a lot. Oh great; he had kennel cough too. This was heartache in the making. I didn't care about wasting my time but I did care about my rescue-sore heart and making it worse.

I started emailing rescue contacts in the region even though I didn’t have much hope. Who would save an old, sick, fearful, under-socialized coonhound? He didn't have a chance, I thought, and I was filled with dread.

Then I got a reply that made my heart leap up and I almost started to cry. Amy at Bob's House for Dogs, a large professional foster organization in Western Wisconsin, offered to foster him. They love hounds. This was the chance I almost didn't dare to hope for. I only needed to find a shelter to pull him and nurse him through his kennel cough, and then he could go into foster care.

I heard from the Milwaukee pound's rescue coordinator Nancy. 239152 had a name, George, and volunteers were networking to get him into rescue too. They had taken videos of him daily for several days and believed that he could be socialized. The video demonstrated that, day-by-day, George became a bit more comfortable with the videographer. What I saw in that video was pathetic: this dog was so frightened that he could not even walk without creeping. This boy acted like he’d never been indoors before.

Another day passed and I heard from Gina at Chasing Daylight Animal Shelter in Tomah Wisconsin--they offered to pull him! When I read that, I really did start to cry. Old George would live! Now we just needed to figure out how to get him to Tomah, four hours from Milwaukee. Nancy, the rescue coordinator, worked that out with BRATS, Badger Rescue Animal Transport Service, a celebrated all-volunteer statewide network. Wonderful! I slept really well that night.

The next note I received was just two words from Gina at Chasing Daylight: "He's here." I didn't realize how tense I had been until I read those words. I turned into a noodle. I was almost singing. I made plans to go on Saturday. I couldn't wait to meet him.

He didn't want to meet me, though. I sat on the floor of his kennel for a good half hour, sweet-talking and tossing treats, before he finally worked up the courage to push through that flap and greet me. But he did overcome his worry. Within another half hour, he was sitting behind me patiently in a nearby room, accepting slow petting on his shoulders and soft stroking of his old flea-bit ears: I wouldn't call it trust yet, but he had relaxed. What a handsome boy!

Best of all, he had regained his health. His cough was completely gone. He was ready for his foster home so he could learn how to be a house-dog! Amy and Travis from Bob's House for Dogs picked him up three days after I took this photo. And his real training began.

George quickly claimed one of the Bob's House kennels as his. Clearly he liked having a "den." He was healthy and gaining confidence, but he was quite fearful of Travis and would quickly walk out of any room when Travis walked in.

He was neutered within the week. I drove up to Eau Claire to visit him. He was easy and relaxed with all of the dogs at Bob's House, hanging back a little bit at times. He watched everything going on around him intently. He seemed to feel a special affinity with Julius, another Treeing Walker Coonhound living there. They hung out together. Here he is standing next Sugar, a young Redbone, Julius, and a couple of other dogs.

George had some lessons to learn:

• House-training
• No marking territory (easier after he was neutered)
• Permitting touch everywhere on his body
• Trusting Travis and other male volunteers
• Leash-walking
• Understanding floors, couches, sinks, and other parts, smells and noises of a modern home
• Accepting affection and petting with ease

George was a fast learner and he learned how to be a house-dog quickly. Amy wrote me that he followed her "everywhere!" after she started giving him face and body massages. Within a month a visiting family fell in love with his quiet sweet ways and took him home, where he is today. Here he is in his new home, chewing a rawhide:

Seeing his joyful abandon with his rawhide really warms my heart! I like to imagine him snoozing comfortably on his brand-new fleecy-top bed.

George was extremely frightened when he found himself at the pound but within two months he had been fully socialized by Bob's House and Chasing Daylight volunteers. He found his loving family and the comforts of home and he will enjoy his sunset years being appreciated for the sweet shy boy he is.

This just reaffirms my belief that an under-socialized senior dog, probably a hunter and an outdoor dog, can be socialized, can learn house rules, and can learn to love human companionship.

By Emily Plishner

It’s pretty hard to tell the difference between Treeing Walker coonhounds and foxhounds. Most of the differences are behavioral rather than visibly structural, and the behavioral differences are most evident in a hunting setting.

Both American foxhounds and coonhounds had the same ancestors--hounds brought from Europe to the Americas in colonial days. In Europe, desirable game did not climb trees to get away from hounds. Hounds were mostly used to chase deer and foxes. In the Americas, gray foxes, raccoons, opossums, black bears, bobcats, and mountain lions all climb trees when they want to get away from hounds, so American hunters selectively bred those hounds that looked for scent on trees and barked at treed game, holding it there for the hunter.

The offspring of this selective breeding became the coonhound breeds. The tri-colored coonhounds, the ones that look oversized beagles, were separated out as an individual breed, Treeing Walker Coonhounds, in the 1940’s. Approximately half of all purebred coonhounds in the United States are Treeing Walkers, with the other half divided between the remaining five or six breeds.  

Hounds that were used primarily to hunt red foxes, coyotes or deer did not need to check tree trunks for scent, so they remained foxhounds (in less formal circles, they are sometimes referred to as “running” as opposed to “treeing” hounds) even though some of them do tree game that will tree. To confuse matters further, there are some hunters that use purebred coonhounds to hunt game that will not tree, like coyotes. There are a lot more coonhounds than foxhounds in shelters, especially in places where there isn't a big coyote problem.

Within the foxhound breeds, there are several different named strains, including the running Walker hounds. A running Walker looks just like a Treeing Walker, but it generally has a slightly leaner and racier build (imagine a little greyhound mixed in), making it fast on the ground.

The formal mounted foxhunts generally use a sturdier looking hound that is heavier than a typical coonhound with slightly shorter ears. Two such strains are the American and the English Foxhounds. Foxhounds trained to hunt in large packs, like those that hunt with the mounted hunts, are more deferential and are less likely to be terribly independent. 

The hunting dog registries generally recognize two breeds of foxhound (American and English) and six or seven breeds of coonhound (black and tan, bluetick, English, leopard, Plott, redbone, and treeing Walker). Some hunters breed "grade" hounds that are not registered, and may be crosses between the different coonhound and foxhound breeds, or even have a little bloodhound mixed in. This is particularly common among big game (black bears and mountain lions) hunters out west.

Within the individual breeds, there are a number of "strains" or "bloodlines" that you wouldn't be able to tell apart without seeing their pedigrees.

When it comes to coat color, very few treeing Walker coonhounds are almost entirely white, although there are some, particularly those in the Clover bloodline. In general, a dog that is almost entirely white, with just a little sprinkling of other colors, is most likely a foxhound. There was an old time French breed of hound called a porcelaine that was almost entirely white. However, dogs of many breeds with predominantly white coats may have a genetic tendency to deafness, so they are not necessarily the best breeding stock.

Coonhounds with a black saddle on their back are highly prized in show circles. Coonhounds with almost no white—mostly brown legs and black saddlebacks--are known as “high tans.” This color pattern is somewhat more common in coonhounds than foxhounds, but not all that common in either.

Coonhounds that have been bred to look up trees often throw their heads way back when they bay, and are very given to putting their front paws up on anything handy—a tree with game in it, a kitchen counter, some stranger they are greeting effusively. This is bred-in behavior, but can be modified.  A pet coonhound can and should be trained to stay off the kitchen counter and not jump on strangers.

I have a lot of experience with hounds of all kinds, and even I have trouble recognizing the difference between coonhounds and foxhounds without seeing their papers or watching them work.

At Coonhound Companions, we're working hard to find pet homes for the failed hunters. In the right home, where their loud voices are appreciated and their affectionate loyal natures are reciprocated, they are extremely good pets.