Huge Amount Of Dogs
James Taber
February 19, 2026
"If having a soul means being able to feel love and loyalty and gratitude, then animals are better off than a lot of humans.” - James Herriot , All Creatures Great and Small
Growing up we had a huge amount of dogs, Beagles, Red Bones, Black & Tans, Catahoula Mountain Leopard Curs, Treeing Walkers, a giant Great Dane and a Husky also. My mother had a French Poodle, yes in the Wilds of VT, named Coco who was her constant shadow. He liked to bite anyone who got too close to her.
We used to rabbit hunt all day with our Beagles and then spend the night coon hunting with a local legend, State Senator Gerald Morse. To me, he was the template that all old time Vermonters were made from. He drove old International Harvester Scout trucks and knew the value of a dollar and made the best BBQ chicken ever.
Going back to the old cabin in Groton surrounds me with memories and tangible physical reminders of my childhood and all the old dog houses out back remind me of the dogs I used to love.
Susie, a tiny little female Beagle who was the best rabbit dog I have ever known, who would wait in her house until a stranger got within range then barrel out, bite them and sprint back in her house, a perfect set up for kids bent on mischief. Then her sister, Candy, who was an equally good hunter, but so shy she had to be dragged out of her house if there was a stranger around.
If we walked up towards the Beagles and they saw we had shotguns they would howl and go nuts and hit the ends of their chains knowing they were going hunting. We also had a beautiful Treeing Walker Coonhound, Taber’s Bible Hill Prancer, a show champion, and one fine coonhound.
I look at the side of the cabin and see the ancient maple tree where our massive Great Dane is buried, Atlantic, undisputed King of the Yard. I can still see him going up to my dad and laying his head in his lap and leaning on him and just standing there not moving or making a sound.
Under a huge pine tree, I see the remnants of one of many “forts” we built all over the woods. This particular one has special significance as I used to go there and read all the time, (Thank you Groton Public Library) as we had neither television nor radio.
One book I read there is “Where the Red Fern Grows”, about a boy and his family in the Ozark Mountains, and his two Redbone coonhounds. I remember crying so hard when his dog was killed in the book, that I had a headache. I would recommend every country boy or girl read this book at least once, especially if you’re a hound person.
After these many decades dogs still reinforce my thought that nothing can match the love, loyalty, and devotion of our K9 friends. They continue to bring joy and great memories to countless people and families. So thank you to the current crop of dogs in the family, Cupcake, Lucy, Archie, Louie, Jack, Rory, Juno, Diego, Pepper, and Odin, and I will also add the two feline Queens, Miss Vanna and Miss GiGi, and the fine feathered ladies of the Benton Road Egg Factory to the list!.
James Taber is a frequent contributor to The Bridge Weekly. He lives in Woodsville, NH.
Growing up we had a huge amount of dogs, Beagles, Red Bones, Black & Tans, Catahoula Mountain Leopard Curs, Treeing Walkers, a giant Great Dane and a Husky also. My mother had a French Poodle, yes in the Wilds of VT, named Coco who was her constant shadow. He liked to bite anyone who got too close to her.
We used to rabbit hunt all day with our Beagles and then spend the night coon hunting with a local legend, State Senator Gerald Morse. To me, he was the template that all old time Vermonters were made from. He drove old International Harvester Scout trucks and knew the value of a dollar and made the best BBQ chicken ever.
Going back to the old cabin in Groton surrounds me with memories and tangible physical reminders of my childhood and all the old dog houses out back remind me of the dogs I used to love.
Susie, a tiny little female Beagle who was the best rabbit dog I have ever known, who would wait in her house until a stranger got within range then barrel out, bite them and sprint back in her house, a perfect set up for kids bent on mischief. Then her sister, Candy, who was an equally good hunter, but so shy she had to be dragged out of her house if there was a stranger around.
If we walked up towards the Beagles and they saw we had shotguns they would howl and go nuts and hit the ends of their chains knowing they were going hunting. We also had a beautiful Treeing Walker Coonhound, Taber’s Bible Hill Prancer, a show champion, and one fine coonhound.
I look at the side of the cabin and see the ancient maple tree where our massive Great Dane is buried, Atlantic, undisputed King of the Yard. I can still see him going up to my dad and laying his head in his lap and leaning on him and just standing there not moving or making a sound.
Under a huge pine tree, I see the remnants of one of many “forts” we built all over the woods. This particular one has special significance as I used to go there and read all the time, (Thank you Groton Public Library) as we had neither television nor radio.
One book I read there is “Where the Red Fern Grows”, about a boy and his family in the Ozark Mountains, and his two Redbone coonhounds. I remember crying so hard when his dog was killed in the book, that I had a headache. I would recommend every country boy or girl read this book at least once, especially if you’re a hound person.
After these many decades dogs still reinforce my thought that nothing can match the love, loyalty, and devotion of our K9 friends. They continue to bring joy and great memories to countless people and families. So thank you to the current crop of dogs in the family, Cupcake, Lucy, Archie, Louie, Jack, Rory, Juno, Diego, Pepper, and Odin, and I will also add the two feline Queens, Miss Vanna and Miss GiGi, and the fine feathered ladies of the Benton Road Egg Factory to the list!.
James Taber is a frequent contributor to The Bridge Weekly. He lives in Woodsville, NH.
Lots of Dogs
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