If you read my Hog Hunting post, then you know my family loves to hog hunt. And that we have friends in south Louisiana. This is the story of how my grandmother (Nanny) and I helped out that day.
As I mentioned before a family friend wrote the article and we were invited down to Fordoche, Louisiana for a hog hunt. And of course, Nanny and I tagged along.
We had never heard of Fordoche much less been there. They said to bring stuff for camping, and we did. The normal things like tents, lanterns and such. The family met them at the local store in town as directed and followed them about 40 miles down in the swamp to their “camp”. Wow!!! What a camp! It had a bathroom, running water, electricity, a huge fully stocked kitchen, a large bedroom with bunk beds that slept at least 20, and a wraparound porch with a view of the bayou. It was gorgeous.
We unloaded the dogs and horses and got settled in. That evening we sat around the campfire discussing the plan for the next day. They said they had breakfast covered. They would cook canned biscuits and scrambled eggs. Nanny said, “No way! No canned biscuits. I’ll be up by 4:30 am and have breakfast ready before the hunt. I’ll cook homemade biscuits.” And she did as she promised. She and I made coffee, three pans of cathead biscuits, scrambled 36 fresh eggs, and fried five pounds of bacon and three pounds of fresh sausage. Man, those southern boys can eat but they only managed to take on one cathead biscuit each.
We wrapped up breakfast and got ready to go. We had a short family meeting with the local hunters and explained how we hunt and what not to do.
Rule #1– Don’t let the dogs tear up the hogs.
We got the hunt underway. The riders on horses, the hunters on ATVs, and the dogs all went in different directions. We had hogs, dogs, and people going everywhere.
In all the chaos, my grandma and I got left behind and couldn’t reach anyone on the walkie talkies. We could hear dogs in the distance and raced down the road to get to them. Some people from the lease flagged us down saying the dogs were just across the canal. Nanny doesn’t do water, but the dogs were bayed and we needed to get to them before they tore up the hogs or the hogs tore them up.
It’s a touchy situation when hunting with dogs. A hog can do a lot of damage to one. And the sound of the dogs with the hogs bayed was music to our ears.
The Dogs 
The Canal 
The Shoat
There was no one else around so the girls had to do it. Despite her dislike for water we started running. Did I mention we were on foot? Yep! We were running through the palmetto grass as fast as we could.
I reached the canal first and dove in, quickly swimming to the other side. My grandmother found a shallower spot a little farther down and waded across. When I got to the scene the dogs had a 55-pound shoat backed against a log with dogs all around. I grabbed the young hog, threw him down, then realized we didn’t have a leash for the dogs to catch them and get them under control.
I handed the shoat to my grandma so she could hold it to keep it from squealing and ripped off my belt to use for a leash for the dogs. We caught the dogs and headed back across the canal with me half wading, half swimming, pulling four big Catahoula Cur dogs on a short little belt (I only weigh about 100 lbs.) with one hand and holding the front legs of the hog up out of the water with the other. Nanny had the hogs back legs and was following behind while one of the ladies from the lease, Ms. Linda videoed the whole thing.
She was standing there with bare feet (she never wore shoes that I saw), laughing so hard she almost dropped the camera. I wish I had a copy to show you so you could see the craziness going on. It’s a good thing it wasn’t a wide canal because I’m not sure any of us would have made it if it were.
Everyone was waiting when we finally made it back and they were amazed at the fact two girls caught the hog, the dogs, and made it back across. They still talk about that until this day.
That night we sat around the fire sharing stories from the day’s hunt. We feasted on fresh cracklins and hog head cheese as the Fordoche host made dinner. They made white beans and sausage; a beef tips and gravy type dish; and wild coleslaw made from greens they picked from the ditch (wild cabbage?) They tossed the greens with vinegar, salt, and pepper. It was the best coleslaw I’ve ever had. We also had boiled crawfish and shrimp for an appetizer.
We caught several hogs that day and made some new lifelong friends. We’ve been back for several hunts since then and loved making new tales each time to share with future family. We even went back one time to help raise money for a cancer benefit. We called ourselves the JB Squealers and auctioned off a hunt to four unsuspecting businessmen who had a blast hunting with us. But that’s another story.
Times have changed since then. And hog hunting has changed. Some of our loved ones and friends have passed on but the ones who are still here, get together every now and then to go on another hunt. We set around the fire enjoying the great food, telling tall tales of our many hunts. And the story of the two little ladies catching the hog and swimming the canal is still told every time. Just another great adventure with Nanny.
