One day, Cinch ran into the woods to our lilypad pond, and when he returned, he had a redbone coonhound puppy in tow. The pup had a collar, and for weeks, we posted about him on all the local pages, but no one ever claimed him. He quickly endeared himself to us and became a member of the family.
When we named him, there was the usual squabble over which name best suited him. In the end, he got all three names that were on the table. Like anyone in the South, he only hears his full name when he’s in trouble, which happens about every 57 seconds.
The first day, we took him to see the bison (video below), and he was just so adorable that somehow he got to stay despite the fact that Jett said, “Not no, but hell no!” He knew what having a coonhound meant, and now, every time that Rufus gets loose, Jett is endlessly chasing Rufus the Redbone Coonhound through the Ozark Mountain night—it’s like Where the Red Fern Grows, except with more cursing.
Rufus, meet Mabel (wait for it)
