Paul Richardson: Where the jackrabbits run

There is a plot of land, about 330 plus acres, that lies to the south side of the little town that I grew up in. We moved there the summer prior to my sixth-grade year, but my dear mother had lived there a good portion of her life before leaving home.

As a matter of interest, she had actually lived in every house on the entire block that was occupied by our home. Granted there were only three houses on that block and the remaining area was empty lots occupied by gardens or fenced areas for some livestock, it was still a unique experience knowing that she knew the layout of these other homes.

The plot of land on the south side of town was the growing grounds for Neosho Nurseries. This company was the major employer for the community as this was only a portion of the growing grounds which required a lot of labor to maintain.

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At that time draft horses were still employed for some of the work. Neosho Nurseries may have owned some mechanical equipment, but they still accomplished some of the task with a team of horses. The draft horses were stabled with access to a grazing area diagonally across the road from my maternal grandparents’ home.

In my early teens I had raised a beagle pup who was my then current partner in crime. My beagle was true to form and loved to hunt. There were a couple of places close enough that my dear mother would give permission for me to take my dog and a very old single shot 12-gauge shotgun and do some rabbit hunting. One area was a field that belonged to her aunt and uncle on the northwest side of the town and the other area was the growing grounds.

In that area of the county cottontail rabbits were plentiful, but on the growing grounds there was a larger species of rabbit that existed. 

My dad had talked about jackrabbits running the fields when he was a youth, so these were assumed jackrabbits. All I am certain of is that they were much larger than any cottontail and were a different breed.

The beagle didn’t care. He would run any rabbit.

Since I didn’t want to pepper my little buddy with shot, getting off a safe shot was a necessity. When in pursuit of one of these larger rabbits. I was making ready to bag the critter when the dog brought it back around. The first pass the beagle was in hot pursuit. 

Then the strangest thing occurred, the next pass the rabbit was chasing the dog. I don’t know what happened in the course of the pursuit, but that beagle became much more selective in the rabbits that he chose to chase. 

We would still see the larger rabbits from time to time, but the beagle’s response was, “Pass me another cup of coffee and one of those cookies, please. I’m gonna sit this one out!”
(Paul Richardson's column, The Horse I Rode In On, is published weekly in the Neosho Daily News and the Seneca News-Dispatch and on the Turner Report.)