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Just  Good  Bulldogs

A Man, A Dog &
A Mad  Boar  Hog 

As told by Tom Farmer of Marianna, FL 

January 16, 2001  

It was about  twenty minutes till sunset on Wednesday  when I pulled into my drive way.  I had just enough time to pull on my hunting clothes, grab my bow and drive over to my deer stand.  By the time I reached my hunting spot the wind had picked up.  I realized that the east wind would not work for that particular spot so I turned around and drove toward the east end of my place to check out a food plot that had not been hunted in the last few days.  I parked a couple hundred yards away and began walking.  As I got to the west end of my catch pen I notice a wild boar standing in the edge of the woods.  I looked him over for a moment trying to decide what to do.  I ducked out of sight and hurried back to the kennel.  I grabbed a cut collar and a leash as I opened the gate on Elijah’s pen.

Eli, my ninety pound AB, was really getting excited.  He knows it’s time to go to work when the cut collar comes out.  I suited him up and we were off .  It felt like Eli was dragging me up the hill.  I stopped by the truck for a moment and got a piece of flat rope out.  I would need it to tie the hog if we caught him.  We slipped down the north side of my property keeping a watchful eye out for the pig.  I finally spotted him lying down along the fence on the east side of the catch pen.  Eli and I quickly moved past the hog getting between him and the woods.  I knew we were in for some fun now, I just didn’t know how much.  By this time the east wind had alerted the pig to our arrival.  He was up in a flash, working that fence for a place to escape but there was none.   As he turned, charging us, Eli spotted him.  The boar veered to my left and headed for the woods as I released Elijah.

C A T C H  H I M  BOY !", I shouted.  The race was on.  The hog had a good ten yards on Eli as they hit the woods.  The woods are incredibly thick and I didn’t think Eli had a chance to catch him.  I listen carefully.  About fifty yards away  I heard the familiar "woof,  woof " grunt made by the boar.  It was getting closer.  The pig had turned and was coming back.

That was his first mistake.  He charged up out of the drain with Eli right behind him passing about twenty feet from me.  He ran head long into the catch pen fence bouncing off, like a super ball off a block wall.  That was his second mistake.  By the time he came off that fence he met Elijah head on.  "Catch em , Eli, catch em!"My adrenalin was really pumpin'  as I headed into the thicket  "GOOD BOY , ELI HOLD-EM"  I cried.  Boy what a sight!  Eli’s butt up in the air, swinging that big tail for balance.  His chest and fore legs low to the ground,  jerkin that pig’s head to the ground with every step.  His daddy “Cowboy” would have been proud.   I moved in reaching under a big cedar tree and grabbed the hog by his hind legs.  I managed to drag him back into a small opening.  I threw him on his right side sliding my right knee down behind his head, then putting my left knee in his flank.  He was a caught pig.  "GOOD BOY, ELI!!"  After catching my breath for a moment I began searching my pockets for my piggin string. First my right then my left, then my back pockets.  Some how in the heat of battle the string fell out of my pocket.  There I was with-out a string, no breakin stick and no one around.  Just me , Eli and a mad boar hog.  "Help me Jesus, I prayed, give me strength" and He did.

"Out Eli, Out"  I screamed.  Eli wasn’t listening.  He was going to sleep hung on the nose of that old boar.  Out Eli, Out"....  he set his bite a little harder.  The hog jerked trying to free him-self.  Eli had caught the boar on the nose, which I have not ever seen him do.  I decided to drag them about one-hundred yards to the gate of the catch pen....no problem........ WRONG!!

I would drag for about ten yards then have to stop, throw the hog and rest.  That’s hard work when you’re fat and forty.  That’s hard for any one when you have a ninety pound bulldog on the other end pulling against you.  What happened next is really amazing,  I caught a glimpse of the true working nature of these great dogs.  As I started to drag this time I said, “ come on Eli, help me ... come on boy “.   I was amazed it was like Eli knew I needed some help.  He was still holdin that pig as hard as ever but every step I took back he took one forward.  It was a little easier now.  We were within about 30 feet of the gate and I was gasping for breath.  I stopped for a moment gathered myself and threw the hog for the last time.  As he hit the ground he  rolled onto his back.  As he did Eli’s face was on bottom in the dirt.  He never let go.   Eli rolled completely over and stood up still holdin on.  What a dog!!!  We made our way into the pen..... Eli still attached.  With one hand I closed the gate behind us as I let my end of the hog go.  I went around and put my foot on the hog’s face, grabbed Eli by the collar and persuaded him to let go.  As  we backed up to the gate  I gasped for breath.  There we stood three feet away from a very mad hog.  I don’t know who was in worse shape me or the hog.  I’m not sure why he didn’t charge us but I was sure glad he didn’t.  I felt like I was about to pass out.  The hog was glad to get that bulldog off his nose.  Eli was fired up.  We backed through the gate and closed it,  Eli trying to get free.  I collapsed on the ground, exhausted.  I wrapped both arms around Eli.  “Sit  Eli,  Sit” I mumbled.  Eli sat down.   As I sat there I replayed the last thirty or so minutes, in my mind.  Boy, I was sure thankful for a dog that wouldn’t let go.

About an hour later I sat and related this story to my wife and daughter, my voice still weak from exhaustion.  My wife asked, “how big is that hog any way?”  I answered,  "well I’m not sure but he must weigh at least 3000 lbs."

Well, as I write this account twenty-four hours later I have almost totally recovered.  Elijah is ready to do it all over again.  As far as the wild boar I’m not sure.  Within three hours of being shut up in that pen he tore the fence off  of the corner post , which is a railroad cross tie.  I ‘ll bet you one thing..... wherever he is, he is still having night mares about a big white bulldog named "Eli".