DESPERATELY SEEKING a high-energy human who loves the outdoors and classic American hounds.
This dog is adoptable. All animals listed as “adoptable” by TARC have completed fourteen days of intake quarantine and either have been or will be at the time of adoption fully vaccinated, dewormed, sterilized, and microchipped. They have been carefully monitored for behavioral issues and deemed extremely low risk for average households. We never recommend placing dogs in homes with small children unless the parents are experienced pet owners and understand the added complications. If you live in the New England area of the U.S. and are interested in the dog featured in this post, please contact For The Love of Dogs http://www.vermontdogrescue.com/ and complete their adoption application online. They are our northern rescue partner and do a great job of placing our hillbilly dogs in wonderful, loving homes.
Hi! My name is Barkley. I’m a gen-yoo-wine Treeing Walker Coonhound from Appalachia. I’m probably about two years old, but I stopped counting a couple birthdays ago. I weigh forty pounds but should probably weigh fifty. I just can’t sit still long enough to let those fat cells multiply.
I showed up at TARC in the bed of a pickup truck, when a man said somebody dumped me near his house, and threatened to set me out in the woods “somewhurrs” if the lady at the rescue didn’t take me. For a minute or two I thought they were going to fight! There was some pushing and shoving when she got me out of the truck and then the po-leese showed up to make sure I got the help I needed. The rescue lady made a post about it. You should really read that. It was almost more exciting than a full-on coon hunt.
Speaking of coon hunts, the rescue lady says she’s pretty sure she knows why I got dumped in the first place. Apparently, everything I bark at isn’t a coon. Does it matter? If it has fur or fins or feathers that makes it fair game, right? For that matter, if it makes noise or doesn’t make noise, breathes or doesn’t breathe, or even just sits there like a garden gnome, it’ll get barked at by me. Because my name is Barkley, and that’s how I roll.
If you don’t know what a coonhound sounds like when they find something to tree, take a listen to the little video below. It’s me bawling at a goat. That dang goat never did go up a tree. Must be something really wrong with it, if you ask me.
The rescue lady lets me live in the house, and that’s been a new experience for me. I’m still not real good at it. I like my crate just fine, and for the most part I don’t mess it up any more, but she’d better let me out pretty regular or I might have an accident. I’m a leg-hiker. Just sayin’. I still complain when I think I’ve been in there too long, and sometimes she has to tell me to be quiet. But I’m a hound. What the heck does she expect?
My ideal home would have a large fenced yard. Either that, or my new family should be ready to walk and walk and walk and walk with me on a leash. I would not do well in an apartment or downtown in a city somewhere. I need activity. I need to explore. I need to sniff the ground and sniff the air and bark and bay and chase rabbits. Kids? Oh, I’d love to have a whole pack of ‘em. We’d have the best time. Cats, not so much. They look a little too much like coons for me to tell the difference…or care.
If you are my perfect hooman, please contact TARC or For the Love of Dogs. I will wait patiently to hear from you!