My hunting buddy Bray and I got invited to hunt a friend's family place up by our local lake. His name is Wynn and his family owns the property. Folks, this is an absolutely beautiful piece of God's creation. I ain't woofin' here, neither. There is a beautiful cabin out on the place, built up on top of a hill. The whole eastern part of the house is windows, and there is a large irrigated wheatfield planted east beneath the cabin, so you can sit and watch the wildlife come onto the wheatfield in the mornings and evenings. On a little sidenote here, curiosity got the better of me & I had to ask Wynn how many deer they had spotted on that little wheatfield at once. He said the most was 89 at once. Anyway, back to the story..... They have a spotting scope set up in the living room on a tripod, so that you can check out the critters. The western and northern parts of the property are rolling sandy hills covered with mesquites and thorny brambles that Briar Rabbit wouldn't even try. I ain't kidding here, we bayed a hog in it & the dogs could barely find the pig in the thorns. I had to hack my way in with my bayonet. The eastern and southern borders of the property are rivers, with hardwood bottoms covered in old pecan and cottonwood trees. There are 644 acres here of turkeys, deer, hogs, varmints, and just plain beautiful scenery. There is everything from open hardwood bottoms, wheatfield patches, and mesquite patches to dense thick, tangled brush on this place. It has food, cover, and water for pigs to hide in. This place is the stuff, I gotta tell ya. Anyway, we unloaded at the north gate and dumped the dogs right there. We had a good south wind, so we planned on walking the dogs east toward the riverbottom and then slipping along to the south until we struck. Yeah right. We made it about 300 yards & had a caught hog. As luck would have it, the dogs bayed this sorry sumbuck up in the most dense thorn vine patch I've ever personally witnessed. It was about 300 yards long, and about 150 yards deep, and the whole patch was growing alongside a VERY steep hillside, about a 40* grade sandy hillside. This thorn thicket was so thick, that the dogs had a hard time getting in to the hog. So, imagine how difficult it was for us fatboys to slither through that crap. Bray, and Wynn were up at the top of the hill looking down and I had already crossed into the bottom south of them, so I had to fight my way back up through the mess. I knew the dogs were caught, and after a fes minutes, Bray was yelling for me to hurry up. I had on some chaps, so I drew my bayonet and went to hacking my way through. It was pretty darn gnarly. It was a small piebald sow, about 125 pounds. We hobbled her and tied her to a tree. We decided we'd go ahead & roll out and try to see if the dogs would strike again. We knew good & well that there were a lot more hogs on this place. We made it about 400 yards to the south, and the dogs struck again and tore out to the south. We made our way south, trying to figure out where the dogs went. Every now and again, we would hear a yip or two, but the dogs never bayed solid. Eventually, we got up to a pond & began calling the dogs out. We had experienced a good hunt & decided to hoof it up to the cabin and get a drink, and then head home. So we went up to the cabin to look around & lemme tell ya guys, this place was cool. There were bedrooms on the north and south ends of this small cabin, and the middle and eastern part were all kitchen & living room. There's an enormous wooden deck that encompasses the north and eastern part of the cabin outside. It's just freakin' gorgeous. We knocked down some Pepsi and Wild Turkey and headed outside to get the dogs that we'd tied and head to the truck. As we untied the dogs and started toward the truck, we noticed that a big boar had stepped out onto the wheatfield. Holy freakin' crap!!!!! We spun the dogs around and released the hounds!! It was a rare sight, getting to watch the race across an open field. Bray's Ann gyp (part greyhound, part bmc) was burning this boar's butt up running across the field. All the other dogs were following along behind, doing their best to keep up. The dogs didn't get him shut down until he made the hardwoods on the eastern edge of the wheat. We were running behind making our way in, and we really weren't aware of just how big this boar was. The bay in the woods showed us the truth..... this hog was bigger than our dogs could handle & we needed a gun in a bad way. The rifle and Bray's pistol were in the truck CRaAaAaaaAAAaaPPPpppPPPPp!!!!!!! I didn't know how to get there, so Bray took off running for the truck. It was about a 3/4 mile sprint back up through all those sandhills & ol' tubby made it in RECORD TIME!!!!! Wynn and I just slowly followed along behind the bay, trying to stay out of site from the boar to keep him from bolting across the river. They finally bayed him up for good right at the river edge. Bray came roaring up on his 4 wheeler, and handed me a 30-30 rifle over the fence. I slipped in through the brush and took about a 20 yard shot through some extremely thick salt cedar brush. I aimed for the ear, and ended up hitting the boar just below and in front of his ear. He dropped at the shot and we all started hooping & hollering. I laid the rifle down (oops) and ran towards the boar. As I got close, he jumped up and started throwing dogs (uh oh) and the dogs chased him to the water edge. I could hear dogs getting hammered & I honestly lost my mind a little bit. I just ran in and drew my knife, grabbed the top of him, and let him have it. It aint' like he was still fully functional anyway, he was in bad shape at this point. He was dead in 3 or 4 seconds. This was a good sized boar for our country, and he was a bad bad bad man. His cutters were probably in the 2-3" range, and he weighed about 240 pounds. He was just the right size to really be nimble, quick, and able to fight some dogs. After killing the boar, we started assessing the damage. 2 of my dogs had some small superficial wounds, but Bray's Ann gyp was a different story. We knew immediately that she was in trouble. She had a small skin-deep superficial wound towards the back of her ribcage, and a hole along the front of her ribcage behind her left shoulder. She could hardly even stand. Bray took her to the vet, where he stayed in surgery with her until 11:00 pm that night. She had 5 or 6 ribs snapped cleanly on her left side, and a collapsed lung. The vet was able to splice and sew her ribs back together, and he really thinks she's gonna be alright. She had to be fixed, she's one of our best dogs. I seriously doubt she'll ever hit the ground again without a bay vest. She's just too valuable to us. Anyway, I have a few pictures of me and Wynn with the 2 hogs, but the pics weren't taken until we were at Bray's house later that evening. Bray was already gone headed to the vet. Here's the pics: We should've brushed the boar's teeth I guess, they're kinda hard to see. The first pic is Wynn, the second pic is me, and the 3rd & 4th pics are the real star of the show.