Paolo Uccello’s painting known as The Hunt in the Forest, which hangs in the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford, is immensely popular with visitors. For many this is because of its dramatic use of perspective; for others because of its exciting deployment of horses, of their riders—and of dogs who distinctly resemble modern greyhounds. In recent years poets have found themselves overwhelmed by the work’s seeming refusal to divulge its meanings and have recorded their responses in ekphrastic words. Derek Mahon (1941–2020) placed the picture in a long history of animal art beginning with the cave paintings at Lascaux in France; John Burnside (1955–2024) approached it as a symbolic rendering of what is always present but can never be known, death itself. For both men the animals—including the greyhound-like dogs—were memorable for their unstoppable momentum. Significantly, both also wrote poems about the Saint (or Saints) variously known as Eustace or Hubert who, according to legend, renounced hunting when a vision of the godhead appeared within the antlers of a stag. Pictures of this event tend to depict the accompanying dogs as either bewildered by what is taking place or completely unaware of it. Prompted, like the poets, by its mystery, this chapter pays respect to some notable representations of The Hunt in the Forest.