I was brushing Banjo's mane before a meeting of the Whiskey Road Foxhounds (SC). It was standing on end from static electricity, and I thought, “Oh, rats. It's not going to be a very good day today....too dry.” Was I ever wrong!
And John Emery had apparently told Master Lynn Smith that if the hounds spent another day in the swamp, he wasn't EVER going back to the Jackson meet. No worries there; John will definitely be back.
We started out toward Averitt Valley Road with hounds speaking in the woods on the in-country side. They worked hard, and first flight took off down and around Kirkland and in by the chicken houses. Second flight held up a bit and listened and watched, finally deciding to move along behind first. That's when all hell broke loose in the middle of the country with hounds screaming away while we were still on the far edge.