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

“And we are proud of you too Christmas.” It was Ugly. “But it is time for you to go to bed and get your rest.” He added, “We have to make up for lost training time tomorrow.”

“Okay, Uncle Ugly, but who is going to tell me my good night story?” Christmas asked. Each night Brownie, Ugly, or Doc tells Christmas a story. So we were surprised when Nitro said, “I will. Let’s go.”

“You never told me a story before, Uncle Nitro,” Christmas said.

“Well,” Nitro said, “There is a first time for everything.” He started the story. “Let me tell you about the time a moose and ……” His voice trailed off as they went to Christmas’ doghouse.

You could tell Brownie was surprised when he said, “Do you guys think it is a good idea for Nitro to tell stories to Christmas?” He added, “I heard some of his stories and they made me blush.”

Ugly chimed in with, “Well Brownie, are you going to tell Nitro that he cannot tell Christmas stories?”

“You must be crazy to think I would dare to do that.” Brownie chuckled. “I’d be his next story!”

As we laughed, Lakota said, “You know, I bet there is a soft tender side to Nitro that we have never seen, yet Christmas brings it out. I bet he is very careful with the stories he tells her.”

Doc said, “He is very protective of her, just as if she was his own pup. But then we all are. Makes you think a bit about how we all were put in the same place at the same time to save her.”

“Jeez, Doc,” Ugly said, “you make my head hurt with all of this thinking stuff. I’m going to bed.”

I heard them all wander off to their doghouses. However, I did not hear Sunny’s footsteps. I turned to her and said, “Well you sure had an adventurous day.”

“Rivers,” she asked, “how did you know I did not go to my doghouse.” I told her that I did not hear her footsteps walk away and I heard her breathing. She was standing right next to me. I turned to face her.

She told me she was still shook up over what had happened. I changed the subject and asked her how she liked running with the team. She really perked up. She was very excited and she told me she liked it and hoped we could do more of it. It told her we would, but we needed to turn in. I told her that I bet Mike would start us early tomorrow. I told Sunny that I knew she had done very well. Lakota and Doc were watching her and said that she ran like a natural. “I bet you will be running lead very soon,” I said

“And did you watch me also?” she asked with a smile in her voice.

“Well that is for me to know and you to find out.” I laughed.

“Oh Rivers, you are so frustrating,” Sunny cried.

“Did we have this conversation before?” I continued laughing and said, “Early to bed and early to rise makes us Huskies healthy, hardy and wise.” I continued. “It is past my bedtime, Sunny.” I walked her to her doghouse, said goodnight, and started to walk back to mine.

“Good night Rivers, pleasant dreams,” she said. Yes, it thought to myself, I always seem to have great dreams.

The next day Mike started to train Sunny in earnest. At first, we did two short runs per day. Sunny would run in all positions: wheel, team, and swing. She ran on the left side or the right. No matter what position she ran she did great.

Sunny ran with each one of us as a running mate. It made no difference which of us Sunny teamed with, she ran as if she had been running with that teammate forever. Lakota and the guys were talking about how Sunny brought out their best when they were on the trails. Sunny, like Christmas, became a regular member of our team. We were all dreading the day she would go back home.

Moreover, we all knew that Christmas would have the worst time when Sunny had to leave. They had become real buddies. Sunny was a positive role model for Christmas and it seemed that Christmas’ boundless energy and eagerness to learn motivated Sunny. Many times when an uncle was teasing Christmas, Sunny would be right there also. As I said, Sunny and Christmas were good for each other.

Both lady dogs were fast learners and when teamed together, they functioned as one dog. Christmas had been running in the lead position at one time or another with all of her uncles. Sunny also had run lead with most of us. However, the day that Mike teamed Christmas and Sunny as co-leaders was the day that Sunny really lived up to her Husky heritage.

This was to be our longest trail run with Sunny. Mike had packed extra gear in case this became an overnight trip, so the sled was heavier than usual. Nevertheless, with eight dogs pulling there would not be a problem. This probably would be our last run of the season since the temperatures were getting warmer and the snow was disappearing on the trails.

Mike harnessed us up and put us in our positions. Christmas and Sunny were the lead dogs, with Doc and Ugly in the swing position. Next came Lakota teamed with me as the team dogs, and Nitro teamed with Brownie to run in the wheel position.

We were waiting for Mike to give us the commands when we heard Christmas say, “Okay team, the trail is probably really messy, so we are not going to go too fast. We will use the first few miles to get our stride and if we get some good trail, we will speed up the pace a bit. If not,” Christmas continued, “we will just lope along and have a nice fun run.”

“Christmas,” It was Ugly. “You sound just like Doc when he gives us his trail overview.”

“No she doesn’t.” It was Doc. “I don’t have a puppy dog’s voice like Christmas.”

We started to chuckle until Christmas said very sternly, “Uncle Doc, I am not a puppy dog any more. I am a lady dog like Sunny and Aunt Sandy, and I am your lead dog on this run.”

I turned to Lakota and said, “Our little pup is growing up.”

Lakota told me. “Yep, and we all better start realizing that she is not the little puppy we saved on that Christmas Eve awhile back.” Deep down inside, we were all proud of her, even Doc. Yes Doc, you taught her well.

I heard Mike get on the runners, pull the rear snow hook, and say, “Okay team. Get ready. Go!”

We leaned into our harnesses and got the sled moving. Sunny and Christmas pulled the lines tight and I heard our footsteps in the snow. Soon we were gliding down the trail. Well at first, we were, but soon our smooth trail turned into a rutted nightmare with ice and little, or no snow.

As we moved on, the trail just got worse. Mike stopped the team and decided to put booties on us for extra protection.

Lakota told me that Mike was limping. “Must be his bad knee acting up again,” I said.

Lakota replied, “And you know this nasty trail is not helping that knee either.”

We started pulling again, and started down a hill but then stopped when Mike said, “Stop! Mud! That’s it, we are turning back.” You could hear the frustration and disappointment in Mike’s voice

Going home was okay with us. Besides the mud, the temperature was getting warmer. Lakota told me that the trail was very narrow here and it would be very tricky turning the team and sled around.

“Okay gang.” It was Mike. ”This is what we are going to do.” Mike told us that he was going to unpack the sled, then unhitch the team. Next, he would lift the sled on end and turn it around. Once the sled was turned, Mike would pull it to a spot on the trail a few yards back that was wider than where we were. After the sled was repositioned, he would move the team, hitch us up, and then repack the sled. Then we would be on our way back home.

Good plan, until it started to rain. Of course, it would not be one of those nice misty spring rains. Nope, let us talk deluge! As it rained on us, Ugly’s jovial voice rang out with, “Hey, where is Sandy? She is a Labrador retriever, a water dog, and they like this kind of wet weather!” Leave it to Ugly to get us to laugh.