Lord, I was the most looking fierce warrior of my kind the Saint Bernard mostly because of my
size. I was so large I couldn't ride in the seat of the old pick up truck I had to ride in the back.
This was a bumping ride on my tail, but that was all there was to it. I was so large I missed out on a lot of things most mutts enjoyed.
Now my Mater Sam liked to coon hunt and would you believe he trained me to coon hunt, but I
stalked through the tree and scared off more coons than we treed. I gave it my best; I was not a
coon dawg in the first place.
Old Sam liked to nip on the moonshine from time to time and he taught me to drink right
alongside of him, so I guess I was more of a drinking buddy than a coon dawg hunter. Well I
tried to please and we both had been nipping on the bottled all afternoon and that darn
fool wanted to get in the wood to hunt coons, so this drunken dog and his staggering master Sam
who believed we could hunt coons were trying to get on our way. I staggered around and finally
got my carcass on the tail gate of his old Ford truck and away we went bouncing down those dirt
roads making ninety.
I thought my head would kill me and all at once a light appeared out of nowhere and was shining
in my baby blues and that darn thing got brighter and brighter and I thought it was Saint Peter's
Dawg coming for me from the pearly gates. Sam slammed on the brakes and darn he didn't have
any and away we went down into a thicket of bushes and vines that a rattlesnake couldn't have
got out of in six months.
Lord I hollered and barked like I do when I was drunk, but golly I got sober in two shakes of a
lamb tail and old Sam was cold sober one time in his life. Now that light was getting closer and
closer and someone stunk up his pants and it was not me. Lord, have mercy on us poor souls that
darn light was going to knock what brains we had out and all of a sudden there was no light, but
a young woman in a long shaggy dress holding a lantern; talk about someone else pupping it
Lordy mercy, I ran through the bushes and the brambles where a rabbit couldn't go and Sam right
behind me hollering slow down you big mutt. Slow down heck, I'm on a coon trail, I lied and old
Sam knew it. I was scared out of my mangy hide and Sam was too. We did find the truck after
what seemed hours of rambling through the bushes and high tailed it home. Sam had brakes
going back and that scared the devil out of him again.
Sam never took another sip of liquor, but I drank like a funnel guzzling it down. Then it
came to me and Lord what can I do, but give up my liquor. It was five years or better and ole
Sam got the nerve to go back where we saw the light. It was fox fire some told us and others said
it was God trying to show us to stop drinking our moonshine liquor.
Then we later found out it was the Mindy Lue who held the light for the Kentucky Colonel who
turned on her and shot his lover. It was his mistress's Mindy Lue, the haunt on the
Dual Mountain region. She was real to us and me and old Sam didn't want any more of the Dual
Mountain haunt called Mindy Lue.
Legend has it some coon hunters came and found her cold limp body and they buried her high in
the Dual Mountains and now she roams the mountains still carrying the lantern light for her lover
the Kentucky Colonel.
If this Saint Bernard coon Dawg didn't get religion, I'm not telling the story. I don't drink
now or stretch the truth not much Dawg gone-it.
I treed two coons Saturday night for Sam to shot out; I'm getting pretty darn good if I do say so
for a Saint Bernard coon Dawg. Coon huntin is in my blood.