Alaska Dogs and Iditarod Mushers

by Mike Dillingham

  The bridge he came to covered a wide, rushing river and he was forced to make a mad dash on the black road to get across. Cars screamed at him as he charged out of their way off the bridge and back down to the safety of the tundra willows. He trembled remembering the hurt the screaming car had brought upon him long ago. Nana had always told him, “They have no mercy, nor should you expect any. Look and be quick, else the Miss will scrape your hide from the black road. Dogs have no right to walk here, so we must run.” Robby held fast to that memory as he recovered in the shade of a wind-whipped water-logged spruce tree that looked sad compared to the giants he had left his mark on before. Nana had been so wise, so strong.

  He had to get home to prove to the Miss that he could be wise and strong, too.

  He took shelter as the rain came again; this time it was colder and carried a bitter nip that chilled his wet coat. He was hungry and stiff, and he trembled from the cold. He needed warmth, but the surrounding land was marsh with water and soggy tundra sad little twisted trees that tried in vain to survive. The only dry places were not safe for a dog to stay for long.

  As he watched and waited, a massive cargo truck pulled into a wide pull-out and shut down, its thundering engine rumbling down to silence. Robby wagged his tail; he dove under the cab soaking up the warmth from the once hot running engine.

  The warmth soon faded in the cool air, but it was shelter from the rain and wind; he was grateful for that at least. He had learned this trick during the coldest winter of his life. The Miss’s pa fixed the steel beasts and they would idle in the yard hours at a time as he tried to get them to run just right. Robby would climb under and steal the warmth.

  It was closer to dark now and the rain had stopped. Robby decided to move at night. He could take the city during the dark because man is shy in the dark of night. Nana said it was because their noses didn’t work in the dark to tell them what was ahead. About the time he slunk from under the truck, the driver was walking around surveying the tires making sure they were road worthy. He stopped and looked at Robby with a surprised gaze. He looked around the empty pull-out seeing no other vehicles.

  “You’re a little skinned up fella,” the man said eyeing Robby sadly. Robby watched him trusting no human but his Miss. He watched Robby watching him. Turning, he opened the door to the cab. Robby could hear the rustle of plastic; he had long ago learned that sound meant a treat was on its way. A Twinkie came sailing through the air and crashed to the ground. Robby inspected it before swallowing it whole in one gulp. Another treat came; this time it was a candy bar smothered in chocolate like the Miss would sneak to him. He had forgotten what wondrous treats truck drivers hid next to their seats. He woofed them down feeling them painfully slide down his dry throat, but he was too hungry to chew or care.

  “Hope you get to where you’re going,” the man said before disappearing into the steel beast that came alive with a loud thunderous rumble. Robby turned and trotted off into the dark with his belly satisfied for now, glancing back one last time at the kind man who made it possible to go just a little farther.

  four

  Robby walked all through the night, watching the stars and the moon shining brighter than the headlights of the cars that passed by him on the cold highway. An owl hooted in the tree line that reached down the mountains that were now on the side of the road. The marsh land with its sour smell was fading as trees and willows came into view.

  Robby held out hope for rabbits to eat, but in his exhaustion he was too clumsy and loud. They heard him before he saw them and they just darted away. So he was more than happy to eat a rabbit that had been killed by a speeding car. He found his glorious meal, snatching it up quickly and running far into a willow patch to devour it in tasty, crunchy gulps.

  The morning had come and the day was warming up, shedding the cool of night. Dew clung to Robby’s fur, chilling him. His ribs ached and itched which was a good sign of healing, but he grew more tired each day and needed a long rest with warmth before he walked himself to death.

  The nights were going to get colder; he could feel it. It was going to freeze during the night soon, and he knew he wouldn’t survive that.

  The first of the buildings came into sight; the smell of the city was disgusting. Robby was slinking through the dirty alleyways, smelling cats and the sour odor of rats, so oddly out of place in Alaska, when he heard a muffled human-yelp.

  Robby froze; sniffing the air, he smelled burgers, fries, and all mixtures of the food and trash. Salivating, he remembered a trip to town with the Miss’s litter mate, Ice Eyes, where he got a juicy burger with fries and an ice cream cone. Robby hopped into an excited trot toward the smells lead on by his memories, as well as his nose.

  He came around a building and saw a young women and a bad smelling man with his hands around the young woman’s throat. He had pulled her behind a dumpster. Garbage was scattered around as the bag she had been carrying had ripped open.

  She was crying and Robby smelled her fear; it made his hackles raise and a violent snarl. He raised his lips to show his great, big teeth he got from the Rottweiler on his mother‘s side. He hated to see humans cry, it meant they were sad or fearful, and no one deserved to feel so bad that their face leaked that bad tasting fluid called tears.

  People began shouting from around the good smelling building, but Robby ignored them as they ran into view. Robby dropped his head low and charged with a frightening growl. He charged fiercely, hitting the man hard with a thud. That was the Pit Bull in him, all his strength in a small, stout package.

  He felt his anger overcome him.

  The man screamed and let go of the young woman. Robby sank his teeth into the bad smelling man’s shoulder, pulling him away like he did to most of the trespassers on his families land.

  Robby yelped as the man landed on top of him in an angry heap. The young woman ran to the arms of her coworkers who smelled like French fries and burgers. Suddenly, Robby leapt to his feet after dragging himself out from under the slow moving man. Sinking his teeth into the man’s leg, he shook it like he shook the rabbits he ran down in the back yard.

  Robby felt an unnatural rage build in him and thought of his Miss and the bad smelling man who was hurting the young woman. The young woman reminded him of his Miss and he had to protect her just like he protected his Miss. Robby was savage in his attack, but not so bad as to hurt the man too much; he just wanted the man to get the point.

  Friends of the woman came to Robby’s aid when the man with the bad smell began bashing Robby on the head. Robby’s head swam as he staggered back dizzily seeing fuzzy lights as he fell over. The people that smelled like French fries pulled Robby away. He let them wrap their arms around him and hold him back. They sat on the man with the bad smell holding him down; Robby could hear the whine of sirens coming and stopped himself from howling at the annoying noise.

  The young woman lead Robby into the delicious smelling building as he sniffed her and licked her hand. He wanted to make sure she was okay before he left again; he had spent too much time and energy on the whole mess already. He was eager to be on his way after he had recovered from the blow to his aching head.

  Other women, some the young woman’s age, some older, were with her petting and cooing at Robby. The young woman he saved coughed and cried as she hugged him the way his Miss hugged him when she cried the bad tasting tears late at night. Robby licked her cheek saying sorry the best way he could. Humans loved kisses; it made them show their teeth in happiness.

  “Thank you, oh, thank you,” the young woman whispered as she hugged him. Her voice was raspy and sounded like it hurt as bad as Robby’s head.

  “Look at him! Poor scrawny thing!” another older woman said soothing his head, gently and slowly petting him.

  “Get him something to eat,” came a booming male’s voice; it was the manager. “All he will eat. He earned it!” the tall, chunky man said as he handed the older woman who had been petting Robby a large square plastic plate
full of wrapped food.

  Robby spent the next ten minutes gulping down all the burgers and French fries he could. The salty fries tasted so good and the sloppy mayo-topped burgers, both chicken and beef, left him in silence with delight. His tail wagged madly, which made the humans show their teeth happily.

  Robby gorged himself until he couldn’t eat another deep fried, salt-topped fry. They brought him a cool bucket of water that was clean and crisp with a city water tang to it.

  He burped repeatedly and lay down to let it all settle feeling a little tired and a little sore.

  More sirens came and he realized he was going to have to go soon. People filled the lot by the dumpster, even after they dragged the man away. Robby glanced around the brightly lit eating area looking for a way outside, but the doors were all closed. A police officer came in looking down at Robby as the mangy looking yellow-red dog licked the last of the pickle juice off the floor lazily.

  “He looks a little shabby,” the officer said crouching down to meet Robby at eye level. “So this is the wonder dog.”

  “He saved my life,” the young woman coughed. Not wanting to let Robby go, she held handfuls of his fur holding him to her shaking body.

  “Was he like this before?”

  “Yes, he just came flying from the alleyway and grabbed the man,” the manager said, petting Robby with a plump hand. Robby thumped his tail on the floor seeing them showing their teeth, smiling at him.

  “Well, Animal Control will take good care of him. They are good people,” the officer said, scratching Robby behind the ear. The door opened again and Robby got up stretching lazily glancing at the people around him. The police officer grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, not wanting Robby to go past him. Robby smiled, a silly thing for a dog to do. His mother was a Rottweiler, Pit Bull, and German Shepard mix. While he got his teeth from her, and his brute strength, he also got her ability to jump.

  Very high.

  Robby spun in a circle getting loose from the man’s grip and then he jumped right over the police man as he stooped to grab Robby again. Robby slipped out the slightly open door, racing off with people running behind him shouting.

  He had to get home.

  “Grab that dog!” the officer yelled.

  It was too late; Robby was on his way.

  five

  Traffic had increased by now, and the road was packed with impatient screaming cars. Robby kept to the side walk as he trotted along, dodging a man smelling of bad alcohol and muttering to himself. He was going to have trouble today; he could feel it in his toes.

  There seemed to be no love here in this place, this city. People yelled and cars honked. Any place that smelled as bad as this place did was no place for a dog. Fear kept him moving, his heart flighty; he fought to himself to keep calm. His head rang out from the bashing it had received this morning, and the horrid noise and nauseating smells didn’t help at all.

  People pointed, bringing unwanted attention to him. He was very aware of every set of eyes upon him. Once when he was a foolish pup, he learned the most valuable lesson of all. He had approached a kind-talking young man who was smiling. His friends were talking nicely, as well, like the Miss did, so sweet and kind. Suddenly, they grabbed him, bashing and kicking him, and laughing, cruel mad laughter that haunted his dreams sometimes. He yelped and cried unable to get away from the circle of kicking legs.

  Suddenly, Nana was there and the Blue Heeler, Bandit, from down the road that always bit and chased Robby. The crazed group of young men yelped and cried like pups as teeth sank into their arms and the backs of their legs. They ran away, tossing rocks and cursing.

  Nana looked mean as she bared her pearly white chipped, old teeth. Bandit ran after them snorting and drooling, having great fun. Nana turned to Robby as he lay on the ground whimpering. He would never forget the sad but understanding look in her eyes.

  “Understand?” Nana asked quietly with a calming growl. Bandit ran up meanly nipping Robby’s tail. Robby ran home and never, never accepted a nice voice so easily again.

  By night he felt utterly lost in the maze of roads and buildings, but he knew the way very clearly.

  He was following his heart to get him home.

  This city made him wish that he was bedded with an angry grizzly rather than in the willows by the highway on the outskirts of the city. It was quieter, but not like at home. He faded off to sleep dreaming of home, remembering the silence that had surrounded him. In the winter he could hear the moose across the swamp breathing and the coyotes yelp with joy as it teased a hawk with its stolen prize. It screamed and dove, screamed and…

  Robby awoke with a jolt. The sound of screaming tires made him shiver and rise to his feet. He looked up the hill to the road where he saw car lights oddly angled on the road. Then a bash like a rock through a window, and creaking groans of steel ripping and bending. He knew that sound. He heard it every winter when the stupid, big blundering moose walked the icy roads. Shattering glass and smashing steel. The moose always demolished anything that could not miss them. But it was summer, and the smell of oil, antifreeze, and burnt rubber made his feet quickly move without his brain telling them to.

  He vaulted the hill looking about. Sun was lightening the sky, bringing back the pink and orange that highlighted the crisp blue. In the distance he could still make out headlights coming his way.

  Robby had overslept.

  He saw the car and the little pickup. They were twisted about each other. It was a wicked sight. Man and their machines, when would they learn. He smelled blood and the stillness of death. Something inside Robby grew cold and a fear gripped him, making him want to race away. He looked at the headlights down the road. They were not far now. He could do nothing more for them.

  “Man and their machines,” he muttered, turning silently away continuing south.

  six

  All day he walked in a daze thinking about the car crash as horns blared and engines snarled around him. He thought about the twisted metal and the stillness of death. The gray sidewalk under his feet seemed endless. He stared at the cracks and breaks on its surface as he plodded along.

  It just went on and on.

  It kept his mind from his belly, and his aches and pains. His body felt broken, as though it would fall apart like a stuffed animal that had lost a thread and was unraveling at the seams. He shook himself, glancing up at the sky. He hadn’t noticed it was getting chilly, and he huffed in annoyance.

  All summer he had roasted in the sun wishing for rain, now it came. The sun had lost its strength in the past week. Had it been almost a week? He coughed surprised by the time he had spent marching south. He suddenly felt the need to hurry. Soon the nights were going to freeze.

  A delicious smell drew him to a quick stop. It was a restaurant like the one Nana used to take him to not far from their old home. She had taught him how to sit patiently and respectfully by the back door near a chipped old plate. The garbage was off limits; it was rude to dig in it like a stray.

  Then a skinny, cheerful girl with her hair pulled into a pony tail would look out the door with a smile. Nana wagged her tail and raised her battered front leg, the one she broke so long ago, as if to wave like people did. Nana said they took pity on her crooked leg; humans had a weakness for pitiful dogs.

  The girl would bring a bucket of hash browns, toast, eggs, bacon, cheese burgers, a lot of fries, and much more all heaped in together. She dumped it all on the plate smiled and left. In the summer they stopped by once a week about mid-day. In the winter it was daily at the same time.

  The people that ran the restaurant back home were friends of the Miss’s pa. They fed the birds, dogs, and the occasional cat that wondered in. The Miss said if they didn’t hand out the scraps they would just toss them out in the garbage. The dogs didn’t eat dog food much when they lived at the old house.

  The next stop with Nana in the lead was always a truck yard. They waited until a truck would come in and then they would gre
et the truck driver with wagging tails. The Miss’s pa worked on the trucks, so everyone knew Nana and Robby.

  The trucks shipped ice cream a lot. If an ice cream container was dented, they would have to throw it away. All Nana did was follow them around until they gave in and left a whole gallon of sweet vanilla ice cream by the dumpster. Nana could never pick it up until it was half gone. Then Nana would grab the handle and walk through the woods to home and share with the Miss’s pa’s little dog Sweetie and the Miss’s little tiny dog Jose.

  It was a sweet, sugary feast worth the gassy gut. In the winter it was a nice occasional treat that lasted forever, never melting in the freezing cold.

  The old memories made Robby’s belly growl. He glanced at it suddenly wondering if his growl was that scary as his belly‘s growl. Glancing around he trotted off around the restaurant to the back where the dumpster was hidden. It was empty save a few ravens that were very mad that he was there and the vehicles of the employees that worked at the restaurants. He sniffed the air; all the scrapings of food from the last few days were in the dumpster. He felt ashamed, looking around the empty lot. He could easily jump into the dumpster, but that was a bad idea if the lid were to close and trap him inside.

  Besides, he had been chained up in the back yard all day once after he got in the garbage. No one even looked at him and all they would say to him was how bad he was. He was too afraid of getting into trouble to even try. “But right now was it okay?” he wondered with a sad whine. He was starving; he didn’t think he could find food that easily, not here in this big frightening city. “Should I wait until dusk?” he asked himself, glancing at the angry ravens. He decided to wait until the people were gone; he could use the extra rest anyway.