Wild Hog Hunting Stories & Articles
Please Submit your story or article about hog hunting or trapping to: info@hogstoppers.com
Please include photos if possible
Wild pig Stories/Articles will be published on this site for all to read. We encourage hog hunting stories from other countries and all methods!
*We reserve the right to edit the hog hunting stories for grammar/spelling. The content of the story will be unchanged.
Video stories can be submitted too.
Please Submit your story or article about hog hunting or trapping to: info@hogstoppers.com
Please include photos if possible
Wild pig Stories/Articles will be published on this site for all to read. We encourage hog hunting stories from other countries and all methods!
*We reserve the right to edit the hog hunting stories for grammar/spelling. The content of the story will be unchanged.
Video stories can be submitted too.
No More Pink Pigs for Red Dog
My 14-year-old son, Jake, came flying around the corner of the farm house one fall afternoon, all arms, legs, and excited eyes, claiming he'd seen a wild hog out back behind the boar pasture.
"Where's Red Dog? There's a wild sow back there!" he yelled.
He pointed in a general northerly direction, which could have meant the back yard - or Georgia. The dog had heard his name and clambered to his feet, his tongue lolling. I glanced at him and swallowed around a lump in my throat. He was a massive Florida red cur, with a broad square head, and feet like canoe paddles. Despite his enormous size he was still a clumsy puppy with no particular talents.
Being a cur, he was supposed to have herding instincts, especially where it concerned wild hogs. To date he seemed interested in our domestic pigs, but only as curiosities. He had been brought home to train as a catch dog, but had been following me around the farm on a daily basis, his large brown eyes taking in everything with a solemn intensity. Other than getting under foot he had no real job, but Jake had been threatening to break him in as soon as the opportunity presented itself. I had been hoping that the day would never come, as I had grown attached to the dog, and the life of a hog dog is fraught with risks. Despite wishful thinking, the time had come to put him to the test.
"Where's it at, Jake?" I asked, trying to slow him down and buy myself and Red Dog some time.
"Back there!" he repeated, waving his hand vaguely.
"Wait! Just wait …." I began, but it was too late; boy and dog had hooked up, and were gone.
I went in the house to make supper, and at some point it started to drizzle. By the time I sat down to dinner it had started to rain in earnest and while I was mildly worried about Jake, I knew that being a country boy he could take care of himself. Besides, he had Red Dog with him.
Two hours after he and the dog had left, Jake returned. He was soaked from head to toe, panting and red in the face. His dark hair was plastered to his head in a glossy cap and it dawned on me that he had apparently lost his hat. "I got her!" he announced.
I sighed. There was only one reason for him to seek me out and make this declaration ... it was because he needed help.
"Can I use your truck?" he asked, like it was the most natural question in the world, despite the fact that he was 14 years old and didn't have a drivers license.
I just stared at him.
"Okay, well can you take me to go get her?"
"Where?"
"Peeple's Lane."
I almost choked on my dinner.
"Peeple's Lane! You walked all the way from there?"
"Yeah." Sheepish grin.
"Where's Red Dog?"
"I don't know. He walked part of the way back with me, and then he disappeared."
"Let me get this straight," I said, setting down my fork. "You chased some hog for 2 hours in the rain, now you want me to set aside my dinner and go get it, in the rain, and in the dark, and to top it off, you came home without my dog?"
He opened his mouth to object to my claim of ownership of Red Dog, and then thought better of it, as he needed my help, but he couldn't hide the sudden glint in his eyes.
"He's all right! He'll come home when he's ready. Now, will you help me get my hog?"
"How do you know she's still there?"
"Because I pulled off one of my boot laces and tied her. She's not going anywhere, if you'll hurry up," he hinted.
"Fine!" I set my plate down with a bang and grumbled while I sought out my keys.
Peeple's Lane was little more than a cow path and after the rain, had turned into a veritable swamp. I just knew at every turn we were going to get stuck in the mud, turning an inconvenient trip into a nightmare expedition. It seemed we had gone miles and still hadn't found the hog.
"Jake! Where is this hog?"
"She's somewhere along the road, right by a fence, under a pine tree."
"Oh, I know right where that's at," I said sarcastically. "If we get stuck in the mud, you're gonna pay."
"We won't get stuck - there was a UPS truck through here not an hour ago. If he didn't get stuck, we won't."
Suddenly there was a sea of grass in front of me. In the glow of the headlights it looked like an impenetrable wall of weeds.
"Where'd the road go?" I demanded. I slammed on the brakes, and they squealed in protest..
"It picks up again, just keep going!" Jake pointed.
I had visions of ending up in a ditch or a pasture, my tires spinning and having to walk the whole way home in the rain. To top it off, my dog was missing.
"There she is!" Jake said suddenly, sitting bolt upright in the seat. "See her?" he asked, and then ... "but why's she sitting up? She shouldn't be sitting up. The way I had her tied, there's no way she could be sitting up."
"I don't see anything," I said. The boy could see like a cat in the darkness, I could see nothing but the foggy windshield and mud.
"That doesn't surprise me," he muttered, and then pointed again.
"Which side of the road?" I asked, peering into the darkness ahead.
"The left."
"Where, I still don't ..."
"Wait a minute, that's not the hog, that's Red Dog! He's still there! She's not sitting up, he is!"
Red Dog's first hog hunting trip had taken him and Jake on a spontaneous trip prompted by a sighting that had led them overland through dark pastures and orange groves, and God knows where all in hot pursuit of the quarry. Together they had chased her, caught her and tied her, and now it appeared that after such a chase, Red Dog was not prepared to leave her unguarded, and had sat at her side waiting for Jake to come back and collect her.
How did the dog know that Jake hadn't intended to simply leave her where she was? For all he knew, that was the end of the event - chase and catch and go home. After all, as far as the dog was concerned, that's what Jake had done. How did Red Dog know to keep watch over that hog until Jake returned? It's any body's guess, really. He had never been trained to do such a thing, in fact, he'd never really had any training at all, beyond learning the right moment to duck when Jake swatted at him with his cap for misbehavior of some sort.
I'd always heard that certain dogs have instinctual behaviors, behaviors that are bred into them, and I think that Red Dog demonstrated that fact perfectly by not only catching the hog, but by standing watch over her until she was retrieved. My heart sank. I knew that after this event, there would be no way to keep Red Dog at home, and I knew I would miss him desperately. I'd miss him, because now that he and Jake had this successful hunt behind them ... just the two of them ... it was Katy bar the door.
Somewhere deep inside I also knew that preventing this type of life would be unfair, as it was clearly in Red Dog's nature to hunt and catch hogs, and now that he had been broken in there would be no stopping him, short of penning or chaining him.
Jake wrestled the sow into the back of the truck and Red Dog loaded up and hunkered down beside her, still standing guard, his light red fur gone rust-colored with wetness. Jake and I exchanged glances and ownership of Red Dog was passed wordlessly from me to him. I should have known that it was only a matter of time before I would be walking around the farm alone, while Red Dog and Jake went off and did what it is that dogs and boys do. After all, it was clearly in the dog's blood to hunt and apparently, it was in Jake's, too.
To Read more visit CJ Mouser's website at: http://www.cjmouser.com
____________________________________________________________
"Where's Red Dog? There's a wild sow back there!" he yelled.
He pointed in a general northerly direction, which could have meant the back yard - or Georgia. The dog had heard his name and clambered to his feet, his tongue lolling. I glanced at him and swallowed around a lump in my throat. He was a massive Florida red cur, with a broad square head, and feet like canoe paddles. Despite his enormous size he was still a clumsy puppy with no particular talents.
Being a cur, he was supposed to have herding instincts, especially where it concerned wild hogs. To date he seemed interested in our domestic pigs, but only as curiosities. He had been brought home to train as a catch dog, but had been following me around the farm on a daily basis, his large brown eyes taking in everything with a solemn intensity. Other than getting under foot he had no real job, but Jake had been threatening to break him in as soon as the opportunity presented itself. I had been hoping that the day would never come, as I had grown attached to the dog, and the life of a hog dog is fraught with risks. Despite wishful thinking, the time had come to put him to the test.
"Where's it at, Jake?" I asked, trying to slow him down and buy myself and Red Dog some time.
"Back there!" he repeated, waving his hand vaguely.
"Wait! Just wait …." I began, but it was too late; boy and dog had hooked up, and were gone.
I went in the house to make supper, and at some point it started to drizzle. By the time I sat down to dinner it had started to rain in earnest and while I was mildly worried about Jake, I knew that being a country boy he could take care of himself. Besides, he had Red Dog with him.
Two hours after he and the dog had left, Jake returned. He was soaked from head to toe, panting and red in the face. His dark hair was plastered to his head in a glossy cap and it dawned on me that he had apparently lost his hat. "I got her!" he announced.
I sighed. There was only one reason for him to seek me out and make this declaration ... it was because he needed help.
"Can I use your truck?" he asked, like it was the most natural question in the world, despite the fact that he was 14 years old and didn't have a drivers license.
I just stared at him.
"Okay, well can you take me to go get her?"
"Where?"
"Peeple's Lane."
I almost choked on my dinner.
"Peeple's Lane! You walked all the way from there?"
"Yeah." Sheepish grin.
"Where's Red Dog?"
"I don't know. He walked part of the way back with me, and then he disappeared."
"Let me get this straight," I said, setting down my fork. "You chased some hog for 2 hours in the rain, now you want me to set aside my dinner and go get it, in the rain, and in the dark, and to top it off, you came home without my dog?"
He opened his mouth to object to my claim of ownership of Red Dog, and then thought better of it, as he needed my help, but he couldn't hide the sudden glint in his eyes.
"He's all right! He'll come home when he's ready. Now, will you help me get my hog?"
"How do you know she's still there?"
"Because I pulled off one of my boot laces and tied her. She's not going anywhere, if you'll hurry up," he hinted.
"Fine!" I set my plate down with a bang and grumbled while I sought out my keys.
Peeple's Lane was little more than a cow path and after the rain, had turned into a veritable swamp. I just knew at every turn we were going to get stuck in the mud, turning an inconvenient trip into a nightmare expedition. It seemed we had gone miles and still hadn't found the hog.
"Jake! Where is this hog?"
"She's somewhere along the road, right by a fence, under a pine tree."
"Oh, I know right where that's at," I said sarcastically. "If we get stuck in the mud, you're gonna pay."
"We won't get stuck - there was a UPS truck through here not an hour ago. If he didn't get stuck, we won't."
Suddenly there was a sea of grass in front of me. In the glow of the headlights it looked like an impenetrable wall of weeds.
"Where'd the road go?" I demanded. I slammed on the brakes, and they squealed in protest..
"It picks up again, just keep going!" Jake pointed.
I had visions of ending up in a ditch or a pasture, my tires spinning and having to walk the whole way home in the rain. To top it off, my dog was missing.
"There she is!" Jake said suddenly, sitting bolt upright in the seat. "See her?" he asked, and then ... "but why's she sitting up? She shouldn't be sitting up. The way I had her tied, there's no way she could be sitting up."
"I don't see anything," I said. The boy could see like a cat in the darkness, I could see nothing but the foggy windshield and mud.
"That doesn't surprise me," he muttered, and then pointed again.
"Which side of the road?" I asked, peering into the darkness ahead.
"The left."
"Where, I still don't ..."
"Wait a minute, that's not the hog, that's Red Dog! He's still there! She's not sitting up, he is!"
Red Dog's first hog hunting trip had taken him and Jake on a spontaneous trip prompted by a sighting that had led them overland through dark pastures and orange groves, and God knows where all in hot pursuit of the quarry. Together they had chased her, caught her and tied her, and now it appeared that after such a chase, Red Dog was not prepared to leave her unguarded, and had sat at her side waiting for Jake to come back and collect her.
How did the dog know that Jake hadn't intended to simply leave her where she was? For all he knew, that was the end of the event - chase and catch and go home. After all, as far as the dog was concerned, that's what Jake had done. How did Red Dog know to keep watch over that hog until Jake returned? It's any body's guess, really. He had never been trained to do such a thing, in fact, he'd never really had any training at all, beyond learning the right moment to duck when Jake swatted at him with his cap for misbehavior of some sort.
I'd always heard that certain dogs have instinctual behaviors, behaviors that are bred into them, and I think that Red Dog demonstrated that fact perfectly by not only catching the hog, but by standing watch over her until she was retrieved. My heart sank. I knew that after this event, there would be no way to keep Red Dog at home, and I knew I would miss him desperately. I'd miss him, because now that he and Jake had this successful hunt behind them ... just the two of them ... it was Katy bar the door.
Somewhere deep inside I also knew that preventing this type of life would be unfair, as it was clearly in Red Dog's nature to hunt and catch hogs, and now that he had been broken in there would be no stopping him, short of penning or chaining him.
Jake wrestled the sow into the back of the truck and Red Dog loaded up and hunkered down beside her, still standing guard, his light red fur gone rust-colored with wetness. Jake and I exchanged glances and ownership of Red Dog was passed wordlessly from me to him. I should have known that it was only a matter of time before I would be walking around the farm alone, while Red Dog and Jake went off and did what it is that dogs and boys do. After all, it was clearly in the dog's blood to hunt and apparently, it was in Jake's, too.
To Read more visit CJ Mouser's website at: http://www.cjmouser.com
____________________________________________________________
Training pups in Australia
My mate and I went out hunting on a Friday afternoon. It's hard for me to get out not having my drivers license yet, so I am always annoying my mate to take me out so I can train my pup off his dogs. The country we hunt is thick and can get very steep here in NSW Australia. It is about 45 minutes from Canberra (the nations capital).Anyway back to the hunt. We got to the destination, kitted the dogs up with their chest plates and tracking collars, got them on n headed into the bush. Not long into the hunt the dogs were real keen, jumping off the ute n running into the bush but coming back with not enough scent to keep going. Then the jump we were waiting for. The dogs took off flat out and not long after we heard them it was only a little boar up bout 50 kgs. We tied him up and put him in the ute with us so that the pups wouldn't be distracted. On our way down to get the pig we heard other pigs run off. So got the dogs back on and went again in the direction in which we heard them run off. About 500 meters down the track the dogs were off again. This time they hit up a good one. No noise from the pig just the dogs. I then let my pup out (a staghound/wolfhound/mastiff) and he ran off in another direction but ended up coming to the pig anyway. This time we had a good one. A fired up old boar bout 85 kgs was giving the dogs a run for their money. I managed to get him on the ground and then we dragged him out to the track about 300 meters through thick trees I might add. After this, we had enough and decided to call it a night. We took the 2 pigs back to my property and put them in the trap overnight to take some pups up to train.The next day we headed up with 4 pups to give them a go on the pigs, just giving them a bit of confidence in lugging. We got there and noticed the little fella was dead with tusk marks all over him. The big fella gave him a flogging. Not to worry, the big fella was still ready to go. We got the main dog out and had him on a lead to let off if my pup didn't hold on to him. We let the pig out and my pup and my mates were into him but not long after he blew them off and was coming straight for me. There was a fence behind me and all I could do was stand there and hope he wouldn't get me. At this point I was shitting myself with this big tusky boar coming straight for me. He ended up going under my legs with my mates pup following him. Gee did it give me a scare. Then we just recorded the pups having a good go on him and it gave me mates around me a story to tell bout the look on my face when it was coming for me. They couldn't stop laughing.
Submitted by:
Ryan J.
Australia
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Submitted by:
Ryan J.
Australia
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Fear the Cactus, not the Wild Hogs
I'm lying in bed at my grandfather's house, listening to him and my father both getting ready for the days hunt. I look at my watch and see that it is almost 4:45 a.m. I need to hurry if I am going with them. As I walk outside to the truck, I can hear the dogs barking and yelping in the backyard. They know the drill. It is almost 5:25, and dawn is just beginning to break.
We put the guns in the truck's toolbox, load up the dogs, and jump in. I am still eating breakfast, a half frozen burrito, as we drive down the highway. We made all the plans for the hunt the night before, and we have the layout of the ranch etched in our brains. After loading our guns, we hand out two-way radios. It is almost 6:15, and about 52 degrees. We have hunted this ranch so many times it is getting harder to find pigs, so it is almost 12:00 before we get the first pig of the day. My father and I hear shots from my grandfather's 44 magnum rifle. Then a hog shoots out of the bee-brush, about 50 yds away from us. As he tears after the fleeing pig, I try to follow. Unfortunately, I was concentrating on the pig too much to realize that I just ran into a prickly pear cactus. After I remove the three, two and a half inch needles out of my knee, we walk toward my grandfather, who had killed 3 hogs.
A little later, my father and I hear barking from the dogs, so we race through the bee-brush towards the scene. There is a game trail that we are following, and it splits to let an island of cacti and weeds grow, before joining again. I was about 25 feet behind my father when a 250 lb hog bolted out of a tunnel in the brush towards us, followed by the dogs. I dive off to the left to get off the trail as my father drops the oncoming hog. As I see the pig skid to a stop, I realize that I am lying in a bed of pencil cactus. If I only had more confidence in my father, my cactus encounter would have been unnecessary. As I try to work my way out of this mess, my father finds his way to my grandfather, who had, with the help of the dogs, taken 3 small pigs. It is almost 4:00, so we hurry and clean all the pigs, and arrive at home at about 6:45. Awaiting us is a nice pepperoni pizza that my mom had started earlier. After we feed the worn out dogs, we just relax and talk about the days hunt.
Submitted by:
Adrian
14 yrs. old
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We put the guns in the truck's toolbox, load up the dogs, and jump in. I am still eating breakfast, a half frozen burrito, as we drive down the highway. We made all the plans for the hunt the night before, and we have the layout of the ranch etched in our brains. After loading our guns, we hand out two-way radios. It is almost 6:15, and about 52 degrees. We have hunted this ranch so many times it is getting harder to find pigs, so it is almost 12:00 before we get the first pig of the day. My father and I hear shots from my grandfather's 44 magnum rifle. Then a hog shoots out of the bee-brush, about 50 yds away from us. As he tears after the fleeing pig, I try to follow. Unfortunately, I was concentrating on the pig too much to realize that I just ran into a prickly pear cactus. After I remove the three, two and a half inch needles out of my knee, we walk toward my grandfather, who had killed 3 hogs.
A little later, my father and I hear barking from the dogs, so we race through the bee-brush towards the scene. There is a game trail that we are following, and it splits to let an island of cacti and weeds grow, before joining again. I was about 25 feet behind my father when a 250 lb hog bolted out of a tunnel in the brush towards us, followed by the dogs. I dive off to the left to get off the trail as my father drops the oncoming hog. As I see the pig skid to a stop, I realize that I am lying in a bed of pencil cactus. If I only had more confidence in my father, my cactus encounter would have been unnecessary. As I try to work my way out of this mess, my father finds his way to my grandfather, who had, with the help of the dogs, taken 3 small pigs. It is almost 4:00, so we hurry and clean all the pigs, and arrive at home at about 6:45. Awaiting us is a nice pepperoni pizza that my mom had started earlier. After we feed the worn out dogs, we just relax and talk about the days hunt.
Submitted by:
Adrian
14 yrs. old
____________________________________________________________
Coyote Encounters
Ever get the feeling you are being followed or watched while hog hunting? Well, if you or the dogs are hot on the trail of some pigs, then there is a chance that another predator is as well. Coyotes never seem to be too far behind when the squealing and barking begins. Generally they will stay out of site, but occasionally a hungry coyote will be unable to resist coming in to get some of the action when our labs take down a small pig. Usually it is a lone coyote that comes in and begins an excited, high pitched bark and yelp. It appears that it is directed at our dogs, as if to scold them for stealing his pig. However, they lack the confidence to approach the dogs closer than 10-15 feet.
Once when a coyote approached too close, the dogs chase him about 100 yds until he jumped over an old stone fence. Our labs were not interesting in crossing the wall, but the coyote stopped and began scolding the dogs again. If I could speak coyote, I would think he was saying, "hey I am one of you, why won't you let me in there to eat".
Another time I ran up to our dogs taking down a small pig. A coyote was giving the dogs an earful and was completely unconcerned with me being right next to him. He genuinely looked upset that the dogs had "his" pig. On the trek back to the truck with the pig, we could occasionally get a glimpse of the coyote following us.
We don't usually kill any of the coyotes or bobcats we see. They are one of the few predators pigs have. The damage coyotes do to small livestock can't be near as bad as the damage wild hogs will do if the overpopulation continues. I believe that in many cases coyotes get the blame for some of the young livestock wild boars kill.
[Note: I would love to hear if others have had encounters with coyotes while hog hunting. Send us an email or post on our forum and tell us about your hunting experiences.]
Update: On a wild hog removal job outside of San Antonio we encountered yet another Coyote. Apparently we were walking through his canyon and he had to tell us about it. I recorded him scolding us with my phone. The dogs have just about lost interest in chasing off coyotes.
[Click to play]
http://hogstoppers.com/coyote.mp3
Submitted by:
Darrell
Hogstoppers.com
Submit your own wild hog hunting or trapping story. You can share your own unique method of hog hunting or trapping too. How to hog hunt, trap etc. can be submitted as well.
Ever get the feeling you are being followed or watched while hog hunting? Well, if you or the dogs are hot on the trail of some pigs, then there is a chance that another predator is as well. Coyotes never seem to be too far behind when the squealing and barking begins. Generally they will stay out of site, but occasionally a hungry coyote will be unable to resist coming in to get some of the action when our labs take down a small pig. Usually it is a lone coyote that comes in and begins an excited, high pitched bark and yelp. It appears that it is directed at our dogs, as if to scold them for stealing his pig. However, they lack the confidence to approach the dogs closer than 10-15 feet.
Once when a coyote approached too close, the dogs chase him about 100 yds until he jumped over an old stone fence. Our labs were not interesting in crossing the wall, but the coyote stopped and began scolding the dogs again. If I could speak coyote, I would think he was saying, "hey I am one of you, why won't you let me in there to eat".
Another time I ran up to our dogs taking down a small pig. A coyote was giving the dogs an earful and was completely unconcerned with me being right next to him. He genuinely looked upset that the dogs had "his" pig. On the trek back to the truck with the pig, we could occasionally get a glimpse of the coyote following us.
We don't usually kill any of the coyotes or bobcats we see. They are one of the few predators pigs have. The damage coyotes do to small livestock can't be near as bad as the damage wild hogs will do if the overpopulation continues. I believe that in many cases coyotes get the blame for some of the young livestock wild boars kill.
[Note: I would love to hear if others have had encounters with coyotes while hog hunting. Send us an email or post on our forum and tell us about your hunting experiences.]
Update: On a wild hog removal job outside of San Antonio we encountered yet another Coyote. Apparently we were walking through his canyon and he had to tell us about it. I recorded him scolding us with my phone. The dogs have just about lost interest in chasing off coyotes.
[Click to play]
http://hogstoppers.com/coyote.mp3
Submitted by:
Darrell
Hogstoppers.com
Submit your own wild hog hunting or trapping story. You can share your own unique method of hog hunting or trapping too. How to hog hunt, trap etc. can be submitted as well.
Copyright 2007, hogstoppers.com
Note: If you have a wild pig repellent or deterrent that has been proven to work, let us know and we could work together to provide some relief for small acreage landowners.
Our goal at hogstoppers is to help landowners deal with their wild pig problems. Send us an email to learn more about our wild hog removal service. We know we can't solve everyones wild pig problem, so we are providing any help we can with hog control. If not through us then, through someone else. There are millions of wild pigs in the U.S. and we aim to provide a service and forum dedicated to help facilitate their removal.
Our pricing is set low to make effective hog control possible. We do incur expenses through dog training, gas, food, equipment, website operations and more. In order to provide a professional service, we must at least cover these cost.
Please visit our FAQ to see answers to some of the common questions about hog control. Feel free to send us your own. Also don't forget to visit the Photo Gallery to see pictures from our hunts. Although we don't typically lug a camera around we do try to take an occasional photo. If you have photos of hogs or hog damage and would like them to be displayed, please email them to us.
Our goal at hogstoppers is to help landowners deal with their wild pig problems. Send us an email to learn more about our wild hog removal service. We know we can't solve everyones wild pig problem, so we are providing any help we can with hog control. If not through us then, through someone else. There are millions of wild pigs in the U.S. and we aim to provide a service and forum dedicated to help facilitate their removal.
Our pricing is set low to make effective hog control possible. We do incur expenses through dog training, gas, food, equipment, website operations and more. In order to provide a professional service, we must at least cover these cost.
Please visit our FAQ to see answers to some of the common questions about hog control. Feel free to send us your own. Also don't forget to visit the Photo Gallery to see pictures from our hunts. Although we don't typically lug a camera around we do try to take an occasional photo. If you have photos of hogs or hog damage and would like them to be displayed, please email them to us.
Low Cost Professional Wild Hog Removal
& Hog Hunting and Trapping Resources
& Hog Hunting and Trapping Resources
Picture of a coyote
Photo of a Prickly
Pear Cactus
Pear Cactus
Photo of a Pencil Cactus