Driving through Northwest Alabama, as I made a GPS-directed turn, I saw that I was also going in the direction indicated by a sign reading “Coon Dog Cemetery.” When I saw a second sign towards the cemetery, I followed it, even though Gertrude the GPS was a bit upset by the change in plans.
In a few miles, I found the entrance:
Down a not-so-long driveway there’s a shelter with a guest book, and the graves of a number of Coon Dogs.
A goodly number of graves.
And a couple of pretty spiffy biffies, women’s pictured here:
The graves have markers ranging from unmarked stones from the woods and stonewalls nearby, to hand carved, to what could be the marker of a human’s resting place.
I love the carved doggie on that stone for High Pocket.
And these hounds treeing a coon, how wonderful is that?
There’s some history and contact info and an explanation of why only Coon Hounds can be buried here at the cemetery’s website.
What I understood was that Troop’s owner decided to let Troop rest for all time in one of their favorite places.
I freely admit that this stop touched me deeply, it brought tears to my eyes.
To me, it was well worth a look, and to Chico, it was a place to explore off leash – always appreciated.