Dogs that break your heart

I am an incurable romantic. I love ugly duckling and underdog stories. The ones where individuals of average ability, but great heart, overcome tremendous obstacles to achieve their dreams and save the day. That is why I love the dogs I do, dogs with heart; dogs with character; dogs that love being sled dogs. But sometimes that is not enough, and it kills me. I’m afraid Dijon is one of those dogs.

Dijon is the only dog I have ever bought sight unseen, just because he was Java’s brother. Java is everything I want in a sled dog, but he has mega-esophagus (food gets caught in his throat) and under stress he regurgitates. To have a healthy Java would be ideal.

Dijon was just year old when I got him. That first year he had trouble getting into shape to run past 25 miles. A year later we diagnosed him with thyroid problems and put him on supplements. He was a new dog. At the start of the 2007 Iditarod, Dijon was 1000 miles behind the rest of the team in training. I only had 17 dogs, 14 strong ones. Why not take Dijon and give him a chance. If I dropped him in Skwentna, what was the loss. Dijon not only made the trip, but when I broke my leg and scratched he was running lead, and had been for 100 miles. That is the kind of heart I love!

In the 2007-08 season Dijon had problems getting into shape again. His thyroid wasn’t responding to the normal dose. We increased it, and increased it again. We finally got him balanced at three times the dose for a dog of his size, but this time it was too late. Next year!

When we started fall training Dijon was crazy to run, but as the runs got longer he was having problems again. He comes in after a hard run, throws up, and won’t eat for several hours. He is working much too hard. We re-checked his thyroid, but the blood levels were normal. The vet thinks it is an auto-immune problem, but doesn’t have any cures. She figures his career is over. Of course Dijon still wants to run. I’m trying to convince him that life as a house dog is a good thing, and he loves the attention. But every time I take the other dogs and leave him behind, he begs to come along.

Eric

Some days are more interesting than others

Long distance races are multi-day affairs where the dogs will run for a while, rest for a while, and run some more, repeating the cycle until they reach the finish line. We train for that with “back-to-back” runs, that is we run, rest, and run again. Monday we were going to do a “back to back” at Eklutna Reservoir (check it out on Google Earth at 61° 22’ 59.39 “ N, 149° 02’ 48.35” W) with a 25 mile run, a three hour rest, and another 25 mile run. I’ve got a mind like a steel trap (60 yrs old and rusted shut ;-) , so I’m checking everything twice – dogs (check), food (check), water (check), harnesses (check), spare batteries for night run (check)…

Temperatures have dropped, it is 12 degrees, with snow on the ground, and the dogs love it. They charge up and down the hills, flying around the corners, and complete the first 25 mile run in 2:40. Not a record, but a nice run. I feed them and rather than sleep, they sit around telling stories and barking at the trees. The sun sets, it starts to get dark and I reach for the headlamp. Oops! I knew I forgot something – well I always carry a spare in the truck. You know you live in Alaska when you take your spare headlamp out of the truck in April and don’t notice it until October. Buried deep in a corner is the old flashlight I carried before I got the headlamp. Not only is it still there, but the old “D” cell batteries still work.

Eight PM and 6 degrees, flashlight in pocket, I turn the team, start the 4-wheeler. If the team was eager to go the first time, they are crazy the second. The dogs love night runs. Without a moon it is like a black cat in a coal bin. There is nobody there but us, and we are having a ball. Before anyone wants we hit the end of the road and I turn the team around. With 17 dogs, someone always tangles in the lines. I grab the flashlight, put it in my mouth to have both hands free (extra incentive to remember the headlamp), untangle the dogs and they whip the 4-wheeler around on the snow almost running off without me. The brakes are locked, the tires chained up, but the dogs want to RUN.

Off we go, but the 4-wheeler is sputtering. I stop and it dies. I can’t find the problem. We have gas. The 4-wheeler won’t start. It won’t kick start either. Put it in neutral and the dogs take off like demons were chasing them. Drop it in gear and it sputters along, not really running, then it comes to rest in a small hole full of soft snow. Just enough resistance the dogs think I’ve put the brake on and wait for me to fix it.

It’s cold back here – below zero – and I under-dressed expecting it to be warmer. It is very dark and the flashlight batteries are weak from age and cold. It is so quiet you can hear your heartbeat echo off the surrounding mountains. We are 12 miles from the parking lot over several hills. There is no moon and nobody else within that same 12 miles. The silly 4-wheeler won’t start and the dogs don’t want to un-stick it. This could get interesting.

The kill switch! It got bumped when the dogs pulled the 4-wheeler around and is half-way between on and off. Flip that to on, the machine starts, shattering the silence – the single headlight on the 4-wheeler eliminates the darkness. I am again at peace, with technology to get me and the dogs home.

But it does make you stop and think. What if …

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Iditarod Qualifiers

Part 2 of the Discovery special on Iditarod showed some great footage. Did you see the steps, the gorge at night, the gravel bars and bare dirt leaving Rohn. Even with all that 2008 was an easy year with 78 of 96 teams finishing. Compare that to 2007 where only 58 of 82 teams made it to Nome.

Put yourself in the position of the race officials, and tell me how you know that a rookie is qualified to run something like that? It is an ongoing discussion at many levels.

Everyone agrees that the 200 and 300 miles qualifiers are necessary, but they are not sufficient. The qualifiers I ran would have been postponed or canceled for conditions like those shown on the Discovery special. But Iditarod rule number 5 states "The race will be held as scheduled regardless of weather conditions. The starting place and/or re-starting place may be changed by the race marshal due to weather and/or trail conditions." Pretty wild stuff, eh?

Check out all the rules at http://www.iditarod.com/pdfs/2009/2009RulesFinal.pdf.

Let me give you another example. It takes 2 1/2 days to run a 300 mile race at the back of the pack. Let's say that you haven't quite got your feeding routine down and your dogs loose 1/2 lb / day. They've will lose 1 1/4 lb over the course of a 300 mile qualifier and most people will never know. But the Iditarod can take 14 days and now your dogs have lost 7 lbs. You have a serious problem you never knew you had. This is what happened to me in my Rookie year.

There are other example related to getting enough rest (musher and dogs), hydration, keeping your mood upbeat, coping with the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, etc. The simple length of Iditarod (or the Quest) changes everything.

Give the races that exist today I don't think there are any answers (a 500 or 700 mile qualifier would make good sense), but maybe you can appreciate the issues.

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Mountains and Clouds

I love Alaska. Everyday she shows a different face. A sight you have seen a thousand times, is always new.

This is Eklutna reservoir from our training run last Tuesday. There are snow squalls in the area, the humidity is high, fog and clouds abound and create a mystical atmosphere. There was nobody there but me and the dogs. When I shut the 4-wheeler off I could almost hear the snow fall.







This is looking up the valley nearly 12 miles up the road, almost at the end.















The mountains remind me of something from Tolkien. I half expect to see Dwarfs.


















A suitable setting for the Hall of the Mountain King.










Keep 'em Norhtbound

Eric

Fall Training and Storms

Last Thursday night (10/9/08) there was a major windstorm (up to 100 mph) in the Anchorage area. When we got up Friday the power was out and the winds still blowing. Great training opportunity. By the time I got breakfast, bumped into the furniture looking for a headlamp (it's dark in the morning now), loaded the dogs and drove to Beach Lake the winds had died down, but the memories still remained. There were 7 trees down across the trail, Three of them were small enough to pull off, but 4 required getting the saw out. If nothing else, driving dogs helps you practice your coping skills.







What a difference a couple of days make. The following Tuesday we drove up to Eklutna. There were snow showers in the area and about an inch of snow on the ground. It was 28 degrees and just starting to freeze the puddles. To a good sled dog this is just an opportunity to cool off. Sisco and Dukat are in wheel with Keiko and Pepper just ahead of them.













Where but Alaska would you find a speed limit sign on a sled dog trail? Thank heavens these are distance dogs and not sprint dogs.

Come on guys - pick it up a little :-)

















Further into the run at Eklutna we found trees down across the trail. God must have a sense of humor, but to a good sled dog this is just another day at the office.









Imagine the force that brought this baby down.













Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Pepper joins the team

I was watching the start of the 2004 Iditarod when one of Jeff King's leaders caught my eye. Jeff''s team is pretty energetic, but this little girl stood out. After the race I emailed Jeff and asked if he had any more like that at home.

The little girl was Tinkle, the star of the 2004 team (and the littermate of Salem, the star of the 2006 winning team). Tinkle had an accidental breeding in 2003 and Jeff sold me Basil (check her out). Basil was the begining of a love affair I have with Jeff's dogs.

Later that summer Basil's sister Nutmeg became pregnant. Zack Steer bought Nutmeg and later sold me three of the pups - Mocha, Rosemary, and Thyme - great dogs one and all. Jeff kept the remaining female in that litter (Scabbers). There was one male, Pepper, in the litter, but Jeff wasn't ready to sell him yet.

Imagine how I felt when following up on a "Jeff King dog for sale" posting it turned out to be Pepper! Times are tough, but I have had a soft spot for Pepper ever since I met him as a yearling, so Sept 28th Pepper joined RNorthboundDogs.

Pepper is a sweet, affectionate dog until you show him a harness, then his mind is full of one thing - RUN! He is behind the other dogs in training, but is catching up fast. He pushes the pace, starts like he is willling to pull the whole load, and chomps at the bit until we go (and anything else close by). So far he has chewed two harnesses, 4 necklines and a gangline.

Keep and eye on Sgt Pepper and his merry band ;-)

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Dogs!

One of the neat things about having a kennel is seeing the different personalities of the dogs. It was snowing Sunday and everyone responded differently.



Blaze is always a lady and likes her comforts. She is sleeping soundly in her dog house, warm and dry.

















Lycos is a thinker. He likes being outside the dog house, but not in the storm. So he found a nice bed of leaves under a tree and protected from the storm.

He is also very curious and had to get up to see what Dad was doing :-)











Ginger is our tough outdoors girl. In the rain she sleeps in the dog house, but in a gentle snow like this she prefers to camp out.












You can read more about the dogs on the website kennel page.

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Worming the dogs

Once a year we worm with Panacur to catch the stuff pyrantel pamoate misses. Dogs that will eagerly eat all kinds of garbage, dead animals, and rotten smelly fish, and even their own stools, will adamantly refuse to swallow this stuff. The protocol is to draw the appropriate dosage into a syringe, restrain the dog, gently open his mouth and calmly squirt the Panacur into his mouth. Then stoke his throat to encourage him to swallow. Good Dog. Unfortunately none of my dogs ever read this procedure. You do this three days in a row to be effective.

Day 1:
Calmly withdraw the first dog’s dose into the syringe. Approach the friendly, excited dog. Lacking a third and fourth hand, capture the dog between your knees. Reach for the dog’s mouth and attempt to open it.

Now approach the somewhat concerned dog and try to gently restrain him between your knees – hold firmly! Reach for the dog’s mouth and attempt to open.

Ok, now approach the very concerned dog and hold him between your knees. As the dog tries hard to escape back him into a corner at the end of his chain. Reach down with both hands and capture the head. With one hand open the mouth and with this other squirt the Panacur on your pants as the dog ducks quickly. If you miss your pants the ground is an acceptable substitute.

Refill the syringe, trying not to consider the cost of the Panacur, and try again. This time you actually get the Panacur into the dog’s mouth and gently stroke his throat to encourage swallowing. After 30 seconds or so release the head and watch the dog swing his head wildly from side to side to spray the unswallowed Panacur. Estimate the amount that wound up outside the dog (do not count the first syringe full, but do count the spray on the dog house and your shirt) and withdraw that into the syringe. Capture the frantic dog that knows you are trying to poison him, hold him firmly and put the rest of his dose in his mouth. Watch carefully for signs of swallowing – foaming at the mouth is merely an attempt not to swallow any more of the nasty stuff.

Repeat for each of the 20 dogs in the lot.

Day 2:
On day 1 you took the dog’s by surprise, by day 2 it is obvious they have been performing head and jaw exercises to strengthen those muscles. Most of the dogs have figured out what you intend and want no part of it.

Day 3: Now the dogs are getting organized and sharing techniques – the passive resistance dogs lay on their side and just let the Panacur run out onto the ground. Another favorite is Snoopy’s vulture look with the nose pointing firmly down – gravity assist. The active dogs are showing such athletic skill and stamina that several circuses have scouts watching the performance. Leaps and bounds, flying cartwheels, you would swear these dogs have no bones, but must have hidden wings.

The job is finally done and the dogs are protected for another 3 months in addition to the yard, dog houses, my shirt, my pants, and me. Meanwhile I am amazed the with all the commotion, much of it from wide eyed thrashing dogs, that never once was I even nipped, let alone bit. These are really great animals and I love them dearly, even if they are sometimes convinced that my evil twin is in the dog lot.

Keep 'em Northbound

Eric

Just another day at the office

I’ve talked a couple of times about running at Jim Creek. Friday was supposed to be a long slow run, about 20 miles in 2+ hours with several stops. It was raining when I got up and motivation was hard to find. I finally got out of the house with 20 dogs about 11:00 AM. The first team ran as planned in 2 hours 50 minutes. The second team left the truck at 5:30 PM and I didn’t expect to be back until 8:30 (after dark). I had Bass and Thyme in lead and for some reason they crossed Jim Creek just upstream of our previous crossing, found a bit of a hole and had to swim for 10 feet or so.

When we got to the second crossing Thyme wanted nothing to do with it. She tried to parallel the creek. When I stopped that and led her into the water, she pulled Bass back to shore. I know Bass is the senior (11 yrs old) leader (Thyme is only 4), but what normally happens when a pretty girl asks an old man to do something ;-). After working with them for 15 minutes, I moved Thyme out and put Ginger in lead with Bass. Off we went across the creek. We forded the third creek into new country. I found a road that looked good, but it narrowed down to one lane in thick woods. About 10 miles in was a narrow trail through a wet-badly-rutted mud hole. I don’t have a winch and turned the team around.

We were at a gentle Y in the trail, almost back to the second creek crossing, when a squirrel ran in front of the team and distracted Bass. He took the wrong turn. Most of these are just loops that come back to the main trail, so I didn’t worry. We crossed the second creek at a new location as the light was starting to fade. The trail paralleled the creek downstream and ended suddenly in a wall of brush. These creeks have holes in their bottom and I didn’t want to go down the creek itself, particularly in the dark. Just behind me was another narrow trail through 1 inch diameter willows. I turned the team around, undid a massive tangle, moved Blaze into lead with Bass and off we went.

Thank heavens for good leaders. The willows quickly closed in on us, lying across the trail just over dog height. Bass and Blaze pushed through – most of the time I couldn’t see them. The willows pushed me and the quad around pretty good. I kept expecting this to come out on the main trail when I saw water ahead and the dogs standing in the creek again, facing upstream. Hmmm. No place to turn around, bigger trail across the creek and off we went fording the 2nd creek one more time. About 100 feet later we had to ford it again. Another 150 feet we had to cross back to the other side. When we hit the 5th creek crossing the dogs were no longer enjoying this and I called a halt. Of course that meant we had to turn around again on the narrow trail, with the attendant tangle. Most of the way back to the narrow trail through the willows, Bass found a real narrow overgrown trail going downstream. I walked it to be sure and quickly came to the trail we had come in on. Pretty soon we were back where the squirrel distracted Bass, took the familiar turn, and wound up back at the truck at 9:30 PM, a four hour run.

I had ½ bar on the cell phone and called Marti. She was almost in panic mode and had just called friends who were putting a rescue party together. I was never lost – I knew roughly where I was all the time, and knew which way to go to find the trail home, it just took me a while to find a way to get there. The only real risk was terminal embarrassment if my friends were called out to find me. Thank heaven I only had a ten dog team. Sixteen dogs in that situation would have been unmanageable.

I finally got all the dogs fed, drove home, unloaded everyone, had dinner and got to bed after 2AM. Just another day at the office.

Keep ‘em Northbound

Eric

How do you choose a lead dog?

The short answer is that I ask the dog. It seems silly, but consider the following scenario.

You and your friends are driving from St Louis to Utah. You have 12 vehicles and drivers and decide to caravan. It’s pretty easy driving through Kansas on the interstate and most of you take turns leading the pack. When you get to Denver, I-70 has been closed by a storm, but someone suggests going south of the storm and taking US 50 over Monarch Pass. Monarch is a typical Colorado mountain road, tight twisty turns with oncoming traffic, cliffs and drop offs, and not real wide. You pole the group and everyone is willing if someone that knows the country will lead the parade. Some people volunteer and off you go. As you get to the pass the storm moves in, visibility drops and there are several inches of snow on the road. The driver leading the pack pulls off into a rest area and says that is it, he can’t handle the stress anymore. As you stand there in the storm, someone steps up and offers to lead you through to safety on the other side rather than sit there and freeze. That person is your leader.

In one of my favorite stories, a new musher was running the Denali 300 and his team quit out on the trail. John Schandelmeier, one of the race officials, came up by snowmachine to help. The poor driver said they just wouldn’t go. John started up and down the team in a high pitched voice saying over and over “Who wants to be a leader?” One of the wheel dogs started to dance and talk and John moved him up to lead. The driver said he couldn’t do that. That dog wasn’t a leader, he was a wheel dog. John said “He’s a leader now.” And that is how I pick them.