Pass The Ammo

It was spring of 2003. I had been wanting a hound dog for years, and this was the year that I was gonna get one. I was ready to search the internet, but I decided to check out the local Humane Society first. I originally had a bloodhound on my mind, but that all changed when I met Copper. He was a black and tan coonhound, and boy did he have the look.

He was already a born pickup truck dog. When ever I drove off without him… I could feel his pain. Riding in the truck was his idea of heaven. And if he wasn’t riding shotgun, he woulden’t stop bellering out the side of the truck bed. He was friendly as can be, knew to sit, and come… he was great. He went everywhere with me that year. To the lake to swim, to Jeff’s barn for riding and cleaning stalls. He was my best friend.
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