THERE’S BIG MONEY in competitive raccoon hunting. When the world championship left Kentucky in 2009, officials estimated that the loss would cost the state some $3.5 million in total economic impact. The hunt moved to the tiny town of Salem, Illinois, where the local Applebee’s now stays open 24 hours a day during the event to cash in.

But it’s not just motels and all-night joints that stand to win or lose. Thanks to ProSport Kennel Club, founded in 2020 and known for its high-entry-fee competitions and huge payouts, a handful of hunters can now pull down enough prize money to go pro—and the best coondogs can sell for six figures. This past spring, I tagged along on one of ProSport’s biggest events of the year, a $100,000 hunt in Shelburn, Indiana.

“If you win this, it’s life changing,” a hunter from Tennessee named Billy Bell told me. “But it wouldn’t change me none—I’d be at a hunt the next weekend.”

Before the first night’s hunt (and in follow-up interviews afterward), several of the event’s top handlers sat down with F&S to discuss the competitive-raccoon-hunting lifestyle, what makes a good coonhound, and the sort of teamwork it takes to win big-money events.

Bell and the other hunters I met were quick to compare their hounds to star athletes, because they are. These animals can cover 5 miles of thick brush in a matter of a few hours, treeing raccoons along the way. So, while the dogs in high-stakes raccoon hunting are traded like the hot commodities they are, their handlers can’t help but develop a bit of admiration—not to mention affection—for them.

“It’s a little bit of handling,” Bell said of what it takes to win. “But it’s really the dog.”

Here’s what Bell and six other handlers had to say about their hard-working, big-earning teammates.

Greg Maynard and Molly

Greg Maynard poses with Molly on truck tailgate
Maynard co-founded ProSport Kennel Club in 2020 and is now its president. Tom Fowlks

I’ve never been without a coondog from the time I was two or three years old. So I’ve hunted more time than I can count. But Molly was born right here at my house about two and a half years ago. She was sold at six weeks old, but I ended up buying her back for basically the same price. We sent her to a trainer in northern Ohio who put a tremendous amount of time and effort into her. As a so-called dog-man, I knew she immediately had what we wanted. You wouldn’t think she was a hunting dog if you saw her at home—she’s more like a pet. But she gets amped up toward dark when she sees me coming toward her kennel to get her loaded in the truck. She knows that it’s time to go do what she loves. Now I try to hunt her four nights a week for pleasure and then on the weekends in competitions. I’m very picky with my dogs, but Molly gives you 110 percent every time you turn her loose. We pour our all into these dogs between training and nutrition, and it’s great when one gives it back with heart and hustle. She’s still young, so she’s going to make some mistakes. But usually it doesn’t take her long to correct them. She just needs more years on her, and some more experience. We’re actually going to another $100,000 hunt this weekend.

Billy Bell and Late Round Rock

Billy Bell with Late Round Rock hound
Late Round Rock is one of a very few coonhounds that’s earned $150,000 in competition winnings. Tom Fowlks

This was my dad’s only hobby. He started taking me and my brother at a young age. There were two options: You could stay home with Mama, or you could go hunting with Dad. We were in a rural town, so there wasn’t a whole lot else to do. Now my brother’s only hobby is raccoon hunting, just like mine. But in the last year, I’ve made a living doing it. I do feel like it’s a dying thing. We’re losing a lot of hunting areas to housing and timber getting cut down. But the special thing about it is still the dog. Rock was trained in Arkansas and belonged to a guy in Florida. I’ve had him for maybe two months. A lot of people like having these dogs at one, two, or three years old. When you buy them at Rock’s age—at six and a half—you don’t have a lot of time left for winning. Eight is probably the age when they start tipping the other way. They’ll be winning, winning, winning, and then it’s over for them. The other dogs will start showing more dominance, and you know it’s kind of time to put them up. But then again, there’s only a double-handful of dogs in the world that have won $150,000 like he has. Rock might be a Tom Brady. He might make it to 10 years old. But if you have a dog that can compete at that level at that age, then they’re really special.

Austin Gentry and Conor McGregor

Austin Gentry poses with hound Conor McGregor
Gentry’s family bought Conor last year for $80,000. Tom Fowlks

My paw-paw and my dad grew up hunting raccoons but had quit by the time I was a kid. They had this scrapbook made, and that’s all they used to talk about. They would show me all the pictures, and it always made me want to go. My best friend finally took me when I was about 10, and at the very first tree, I called my dad and told him I wanted a dog. Boom. It just clicked. Maybe it was in my blood—I just enjoy hearing dogs run. For me it’s a lifestyle. And back when I started, if you had told me you could win $100,000 on a raccoon hunt, I would have said there’s no way. That’s life-changing money. That’s a down payment on a house. But also at that time, you could take $10,000 and buy one of the best coonhounds in the country. We bought Conor a year ago this month for about $80,000, and since then we’ve probably won about $40,000 with him. All my vacation days are used to go to these coon hunts. I’m getting off work, doing dad duty, going out until midnight or 1 AM, taking a three-hour nap and getting up to do it again the next day. Once you form a bond with a dog and start winning, you don’t want to get rid of them. I’m not saying we wouldn’t sell Conor, but it would take a ridiculous amount of money.

Davie Newland and Power Trap

Davie Newland and hound Power Trap
Newland says Power Trap is one of the best coondogs in all of Texas. Tom Fowlks

I read Where the Red Fern Grows, which is probably where a bunch of people got their start. A guy who lived a few blocks from me had a dog and we just took off hunting from there. We’ve always done these small competition hunts. They didn’t pay no money—just trophies. I took a seven-year break from hunting and got married. And so did the guy I used to hunt with when I was a kid. But then about a year ago, he got a dog and started sending me to some of these newer, bigger hunts. Now I paint houses about an hour south of Dallas and run coondogs. We’re not really in Mecca down here. In fact, there’s probably not four raccoon hunters within 100 miles of me. But Trap’s actually one of the better hounds in Texas. He’s won the state race and close to 10 grand. He’s eight years old—an old man—and has spent most of his life running what we call open events. There are these little raccoon hunting clubs scattered all around the country, and it’s just a group of maybe older guys who have kind of retired from the game and show up to play dominoes and drink coffee. So in an open, you might hunt a Tuesday night in some random town, and come out with $72. Most of that 10 grand was won a little bit at a time.

Trey Hewitt and Debot

Trey Hewitt and hound Debot pose on truck tailgate
Hewitt first partnered with Debot about three years ago, and the dog has earned about $70,000 since. Tom Fowlks

My great-grandfathers used to fox hunt together years ago. My dad was a vet, and he passed away when I was three. I used to rabbit hunt, but I was probably nine or 10 years old when I started with coons. Me and my cousin went to a competition hunt, and I let him handle my dog, because he’d been to a few before. He should have won, but he made a mistake and didn’t. Anyway, I was hooked from there. When I was close to 16, I met the man I’m hunting for right now—a multimillionaire through hard work in fiber optics. About three years ago, he said he’d like to get a dog and get into some of the bigger hunts. Debot came up for sale, and I picked him up. He was a good dog, but he wouldn’t stay by himself like I wanted him to. Nowadays everybody wants a dog to be deep and lonely. It makes it easier on the handler to call the dog [announce that it has treed a raccoon] when they’re by themselves. If they’re by themselves and they’ve treed, you can let them settle in. Years ago, the dogs would pack up together, so you’d be gunning for the tree and jockeying for a position when they’d strike. You’d make a lot more mistakes that way. But it’s your job as a handler to figure a dog out and learn how to communicate with it. So I just kept hunting Debot and working with him to become more independent, and right now he’s got about $70,000 in lifetime earnings on him.

Ronnie Roe Davis and Electric Power, a.k.a Joe

Ronnie Roe Davis and hound Joe pose behind truck
Davis doesn’t hunt Joe anymore, but he catches up with his old partner at many events, including this one. Tom Fowlks

There were no competitions down here in Southern Alabama. Just real hunting down this way. All thick, piney woods and briar patches. But I always knew what a dog sounded like. And I was real competitive and liked to win. So that’s what I liked to do on my off time. Now it’s a full-time job. It’s all I do—sleep during the day and hunt raccoons at night. You’ve gotta keep the dogs in shape, so you’ve gotta be in the woods every night. I keep myself in shape during the week just walking behind dogs. I don’t go to the gym or work out. If I don’t hunt, I ain’t getting in shape.

I had a dog, his name was Bobo. I didn’t win much with him, and he wound up biting, so I got rid of him. I just can’t put up with a dog that’s biting folks. Another competitor from Northern Alabama wanted him, and he had Joe, so we did a little trade. He likes Bobo a lot and said he got him to quit from biting. And now I’ve got rid of Joe, though I see him all the time. I had him for about three months. I reckon that’s the shortest I’ve ever had a dog. I try not to get too attached. Anything could happen to them. We’re running up down the roads with them, they can get wore out, or somebody comes and buys them.

Josh Sizemore and Bella

Josh Sizemore and Bella pose in front of a stone wall with a sign reading Shelburn
Sizemore and Bella won the $100,000 first prize in the Shelburn hunt. Tom Fowlks

I guess I’ve never really worked a 9-to-5 job. I just hustle—I buy motorcycles, trucks, guns, whatever. I make extra money to go to the hunts. It’s kind of a self-taught thing. You spend a lot of time out there just pleasure hunting, listening to your dog, and knowing every bark that it makes. For the most part, I hunt older, more seasoned dogs. The first big hunt I won was last year with a dog called Hunch, and unfortunately we got him killed last September. I got him hit by a car up in Indiana at a hunt. It doesn’t happen a lot, because the guides are good at putting us where there are not a lot of dogs and stuff. But it can. Bella is only four, but she has a coon every time she trees. She is so, so accurate. And that’s what it takes. You can train them for that, but a lot of it comes from their bloodline, too. They need a good nose. She’s out of a dog that was called Bone Collector. He was famous in the breeding world. I don’t really know what her momma is out of. I don’t keep up with the pedigrees and all that; the man I hunt for made the cross and then raised her from a puppy. Now she’s the second female to ever win $100,000, and she’s the all-time winningest female in ProSport.

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