Mike Dillingham - Alaska Dogs and Iditarod Mushers - The Adventures of Balto, Back of the Pack, Honor Bound, Rivers

He caught the smell of human food and turned his nose into the woods, following it down from the mountain to find a bar and grill with the cheerful sounds and smells of man filling the night. Robby moved slowly having found the territory marks of another male dog as well as a female dog. He wanted to slink in and grab a bite and a dry place to wait out the rain that drizzled down in the ever-growing cold.

The bar and grill was just off the highway; random cars pulled in and out. Robby didn’t expect the flow of people to slow down so he had to keep to the back of the building to dodge eyes and tires. Robby had approached the trimmed lawn just inside the pole fence when an angry growl halted him and the shine of the moon glinted off large teeth exposed in a ferocious snarl.

Robby was too weak to fight and too worn out to run away. He stood there like a pup that didn’t know any better and looked foolish.

“Please, I have come a long way and will be gone as soon as I rest and find something to eat,” he growled politely. “I did not mean to trespass; I’m just so tired.” Robby tried to lay down calmly, but he was so tired he fell down onto the damp lawn in a heap.

“Eh, how’s about I eat you, runty mutt pup of a mud dog!” snarled the male dog that had marked the bar and grill as his home. Robby lowered his head and whimpered quietly seeing the dog’s massive head slip from the shadows into the light cast by lights from within the bar and grill.

The dog made Robby look like a puppy. It was as big as a small bear and had a booming voice. Its eyes shone brightly against its black-as-night fur. He was a mastiff. Robby had seen other mastiffs before; the breed was prized for its size and brute strength. But this dog was a monster, a giant among giants. The dogs paws alone were the size of all four of Robby’s paws put together.

Robby shuttered in fear.

Robby had begun to beg, hoping the dog would allow him to stay, when the small sharp voice of a female dog turned his attention to the back door of the bar and grill that stood slightly open.

“Tank, what are you doing? Who are you talking to? Do you smell anything? I have to potty! Are there any birds out?” Robby’s head buzzed just trying to keep up with the quick sharp voice. The giant turned his massive head to look at the small dog that bounced from the shadows. Robby smiled, wagging his tail, looking at the smallest dog he’d ever seen.

“Smudge-Spot, stop talking so fast. The wolves won’t eat annoying little things because they don’t want a belly ache from all that yip yapping you do. And I was hoping they would.” The giant of a dog laughed a booming, rumbling laugh.

“Ha ha, so funny…I think I saw a moose by the door you could go choke on.” The tiny little dog had a pink spiked collar on, her name tag jingled as she walked with a bouncy step. The pink bows in her long brown and black hair shook as she snapped at the giant and he laughed waiting for her to be away from him before sitting down. Robby guessed the giant worried about sitting on his tiny companion.

“Who are you?” the tiny dog asked walking up to Robby and sniffing him with her little nose.

“My name is Robby,” he growled softly lying his head down to better be at Smudge-Spot’s eye level. “I’m trying to get home. I smelled the food and came down the mountain. I’m sorry. I will be on my way.” Robby rose slowly to leave, but Tank walked toward him. Robby froze fearing the giant dog was going to fight.

“Where are you going?” Tank asked, smelling Robby’s wounds. Smudge-Spot licked Robby’s nose and stepped closer.

“Home,” Robby growled, his mind wandering, dreaming of a time long ago. He drifted off to sleep unable to stay awake any longer. Tank sighed watching Robby pass out from lack of food and rest, and the infection in his leg that had left him with a rising fever. The giant of a dog glanced around before carefully grabbing the scruff of Robby’s neck like he was a pup. He half-carried and half-drug Robby’s limp body to his massive dog house back behind the small house just through the woods that Tank’s caretaker called home.

“You think he’s diseased?” Smudge-Spot asked hopping into a jog to keep up with the giant’s strides. Tank set Robby down within the shadows of the massive dog house. He glanced at the tiny dog that had been his companion for many years now.

“No, when a dog has a will as he does, there is a master that has earned his honor, his courage, and his undying loyalty. He wore a collar not so long ago and he has a lingering smell of a girl on him.” Tank sniffed him over, nosing the ring of fur around Robby’s neck were his collar had rubbed the hairs shorter over years of wear.

“Why are we helping him?” Smudge-Spot asked. Tank huffed at her. She was still young and didn’t understand the world beyond. Tank thought back to his master and felt sadness well up. He snorted nudging her away. He forgot at times that Smudge-Spot had been but a baby when she came here.

“If we don’t help him, he will die before he can even get halfway to where he is going.” Tank sat watching Robby sleep, pitying him for the sad state he was in. “If we do not help him and he dies, his shadow will wander until the sun rises no more and never join the Great Pack among the stars.” Tank growled quietly deep in his chest before turning and walking back to his bed on the back deck of the bar and grill to guard it from bears that liked to sneak into the storage room when the door was left open to let in the cool air. Smudge-Spot followed, whispering questions about Tank’s past as they walked along the moon lit path. The giant of a dog hushed her, watching the skies for an owl or a falcon that could swoop down and grab her. He didn’t like to think about his past for soon he wouldn’t need memories anymore.

Robby awoke to the smell of BBQ sauce and burgers. He slowly sat up, feeling the bruises on the skin at the scruff of his neck. He was in a strange place, but it was dry and warm and someone had left a Styrofoam box full of BBQ sauce-smeared chicken and beef scraps, as well as half eaten cheese burgers. He woofed down the food, looking at the massive teeth marks in the sides of the to-go box. He remembered last night and felt relieved that they had brought him here.

In truth he hadn’t expected to be treated nicely by any dog on his journey. Very few had snarled at him; most had let him be, fearing him to be diseased or a wandering spirit. He knew he looked bad, but not bad enough to be seen as a spirit. He laughed to himself as he licked the to-go box clean.

He heard a tiny voice that reminded him of the little squeaks shrews made. A tiny head with pink bows holding its long hair in a human way popped into the door way of the large doghouse.

“Oh, you’re awake!” she growled. Excited to see him, she wagged her long haired tail, hopping into the air slightly.

“How long have I been here?” Robby growled quietly lying down.

“A few days now. We thought you were dead! But Tank said you were just resting.” She had a quick squeaky way of talking that made Robby want to laugh out loud. He wagged his tail trying not to upset her with his humor. His tail stopped wagging when he realized he’d been here much too long.

“Thank you for all you have done, but I must be going,” Robby said, standing with a groan.