To some, hound hunting seems outdated, even unethical. Critics liken it to shooting fish in a barrel. But those who’ve actually done it know that hunting with hounds is one of the most physically demanding, intense, and ethical forms of hunting around. As I prep for a mountain lion hunt in Utah, where I’ll have to do my best to keep up with a pack of hounds, I can’t help but think about how this method is constantly under fire from those who don’t fully grasp the deep history, skill, and ethics behind it.
A few years back, I shot a bear in West Virginia, behind the guidance of some solid houndsmen and a few world-class dogs. It isn’t simply turning rabid dogs loose and walking up to blast whatever they’ve treed. There’s years of preparation, training, and countless hours spent out in the field before even getting close to an animal. And not all animals that are treed are harvested. Following dogs through deadfalls and up mountains is physically demanding. It’s common to walk miles without ever firing a shot.
Hound hunting allows hunters the time to make informed decisions. In Michigan, when dogs tree a bear in late summer, or a bobcat in the dead of winter, hunters have time to assess whether it’s the right animal to take. Is it too young? A female with cubs or kittens? Houndsmen often walk away without firing a shot. For most, it’s more about the chase than the kill. And when it’s time to pull the trigger, it’s done carefully. They find a clear shot, examine the target one more time, then squeeze the trigger.
Yet hound hunting remains a target for anti-hunting groups. Part of it has to do with the species of big game you go after with hounds: bears and big cats. Most are fine killing and eating something with hooves. Things with paws seem tougher for many people.
In 1992, Colorado banned hound hunting for black bears, largely driven by campaigns that played to public perception, not the science of wildlife management. Since then, these groups have used similar strategies to restrict hunting rights, one practice at a time. This year, hunting was under legislative attack in the Centennial State. Proposition 127 was introduced, aimed at banning mountain lion hunting altogether. Thankfully, voters thwarted this emotional and misguided proposition in November.
Banning hound hunting harms wildlife management. Houndsmen work closely with biologists all over the country, providing valuable boots-on-the-ground data on predator populations. Houndsmen run dogs for large portions of the year. They’re a real resource. Bears, bobcats, and mountain lions play crucial roles in their respective ecosystems, and these hunters help ensure their populations are kept in balance.
For those who question the ethics of hound hunting, let’s talk about fair chase. Yes, we use dogs to track predators, but it’s not easy. Aside from the months of training in the offseason, you have to cross a track before a dog does you any good. That can take hours, sometimes days. And once you’ve found a track and determined it’s the right animal to chase (it’s easy for someone with an untrained eye to misjudge the size of an animal or confuse wolf and lion tracks), sometimes the cat or bear outwits the dogs. Sometimes you can’t catch up in time. Lots can go wrong.
In Michigan, hound hunting plays a vital role in managing wildlife, especially with bears and bobcats. It keeps predator populations in check while preserving a tradition that’s been passed down for generations. This tradition extends beyond the chase.
I’m looking forward to my hunt in Utah. There’s a sense of accomplishment that comes from working with hounds, knowing it supports wildlife management and gives me the opportunity to harvest an animal responsibly. I’ll be bringing home fresh meat for the freezer, a rug, and a skull as a testament to the chase. It’s the whole experience—the tradition, the conservation, and the reward—that makes hound hunting worth preserving.
James Zandstra is an experienced outdoorsman with a passion for the Mitten State. Follow his work on X @TheFairChase1.
