houndsThis past February Gretchen and I went on a road trip to Camden, SC with another hunt member Judith Craw and her Anglo-Arab, Ricky.  We went down to see MY huntsman, Kurt Krucke, who is now the huntsman for the Camden Hunt.  Rick and I spent 5 hours in the back of the trailer telling stories on our riders.  Needless to say, by our count, Gretchen has fallen off many more times than Judith has!  LOL! [Gretchen’s Note:  Watch it, Lard Butt, or I will cancel your massage for next week.]

We arrived Friday night to a sandy barn yard.  Kurt put me in the stall reserved for HIS hunt horse.   We passed his horse on the way in, and he did look so intimated that I almost felt sorry for him.  Almost.  On the wall in front of me was the map of Camden’s territory with all of their jumps marked and named.  Yep – after this trip, there will be a jumped named for me! [Gretchen’s Note:  Not a jump, little man, but maybe they will name a hound after you.   They were all amazed at my saddled hound.]

The next morning we tacked up right there, as the barn and kennels are on the edge of their 20,000-acre fixture.  Ricky and I prance down the road to the kennels where all the staff and Masters had gathered in their scarlet’s to escort Kurt and the pack to the meet.  We made introductions while Kurt checked his hound list, and then we were off!  We went down the sandy trail to the back yard of a hunt member with a beautiful cypress tree in a pond.  They had such green grass – it was beautiful!

Then Kurt surprised us and invited both Ricky and I to be up front with him and the hounds!  YES! We left the green yard for the pines to cast the hounds.  It had been very dry there, and it was getting warm.  The hounds were trying so hard in the pine scrub to find any scent.  Kurt was very patient, and then they did hit!  He and I talked a lot during the hunt.  I gave him lots of advice, and he was so grateful for it.  [Gretchen’s Note:  I will personally shave off all your tail hairs to leave you with a rat’s tail if you don’t stop telling such lies.  Kurt did NOT take advice you.  The man is perfectly capable of hunting his own hounds in his own territory, you fat cock-a-poo.]

Turns out there were on a red fox.  We viewed it criss-crossing the rail-road tracks several times.  I guess it was trying to get the creosote of the rail-road ties to foil the scent.  But the hounds weren’t fooled, and they were off again!

I loved galloping down those sandy trails, but I was highly embarrassed when That Woman wouldn’t let me jump.  It was mortifying!  I can jump much higher than those jumps.  She is such a pain in the rump.  One of these days I will figure out how to drive myself to the meets so I won’t need her anymore! [Gretchen’s Note:  Well, if you could see over the steering wheel then maybe you could drive yourself.  But without thumbs, how will you put the key in the ignition?]

I knew I should have dumped that Wench on the rail-road tracks when I had the chance.  Thumbs-schmumbs.  I have teeth!  And I know how to bribe the cats into helping me – I stole some of the crawfish you got for a boil not too long ago.  I have them hidden in the barn freezer, so I own those kitties!  As far as seeing over the wheel, I’ll just do what you do to see over the truck’s steering wheel.  I’ll sit on telephone books! [Gretchen’s Note:  You are cruisin’ for a bruisin’, my little pigmy hippo.]

Next year I am coming back to Camden and will be sure to make the Hunt Ball then.  I missed it this year because That Woman claimed she got a stomach virus and was too sick to attend.  Funny, she’s never found out that I had spiked her morning tea!  Call me Lard Butt one more time, Wench.

Thanks to my best buddy, Kurt and his girlfriend Clare, for a great weekend!

Respectfully Submitted,

Ziggy Pelham, the World’s Most Awesome Hunt Horse!

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