Alaska Dogs and Iditarod Mushers

by Mike Dillingham

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.

  eleven

  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.

  twelve

  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.

  “No, you must rest up. There is no way you will survive the pass through the mountains like this.” It was the booming growl of Tank. The big dog glanced around before lying with his back to Robby, perhaps as a way to not alert his master to Robby’s presence in the massive dog house. Smudge-Spot drug the to-go box out and raced around the yard before a human woman called her up to the house and took it away. Tank spoke quietly so as not to get any attention from the human woman who spoke gibberish in a happy voice to Smudge-Spot.

  “There are wolves, coyotes, foxes, bears, lynx, and angry moose, as well as all man’s terrible things on your way south,” Tank growled. Robby understood his concern and was glad he had stopped to recover as best he could.

  “How do you know I’m going south?” Robby growled quietly.

  “You growled in your sleep. You had many dreams, good and bad.” Tank sounded old. Robby noticed the grey around his m
uzzle and eyes. He remembered Nana then, how she had been as black as the death-black road and then she too grew old and was almost white by the time she went to the Great Pack among the stars. “When you are ready, I will take you to a game trail that will take you far south without losing your way,” Tank growled, standing up with a grumble and a stretch.

  “What of your human?” Robby growled feeling an empty sadness overcome him.

  “I have a sickness inside of me. I don’t have many days left and I don’t want her to weep over me. It is the way of the old who have too much pride,” Tank growled sadly and walked away. Robby saw a stiff, painful step to his walk. Tank stopped and looked over his great big shoulder. “Rest up; I will come get you when it is time to go.” Robby laid his blocky head on his paws and whined. Nana had said some dogs didn’t want to be around the ones they loved when they slept the Great Sleep, they preferred to be alone among the trees and distant mountains. Nana said it was the old way. Nana didn’t talk much about the old ways of dogs; she said the young didn’t need to know as they would know soon enough when they turned old themselves. Nana couldn’t walk before she had died; the Miss had to carry her. The Miss labored with her heavy weight, but she did so with tears in her eyes and a determined face; like it was the Miss’s final gift to Nana, to carry her to the Great Pack.

  Nana said dying old and sickly was a sad way for a dog to die, but she went to the Great Pack in the sky knowing the Miss loved her. Robby remembered watching the Miss holding Nana, even after the light was gone from Nana’s eyes and Nana was sleeping the Great Sleep.

  He had to get his Miss.

  He had to tell her he loved her.

  Robby wept like a foolish puppy as the rain came down so hard it drowned out his sad whines, pounding on the tin roof on the human’s house, sounding as if it was going to shatter it.

  He wanted to see the Miss one last time; he wanted to lick her cheek to tell her he loved her; he wanted to be in her arms, even if it was just one last time. He turned his back on the rain curling up in the dark shadows at the back of the dog house.

  “Oh, Nana, help me be strong and brave so I may see her again,” Robby cried hiding his nose under his sore, dirty paws. “Help me be strong like you, Nana.”

  thirteen

  It was late into the night when Tank came for Robby. The giant dog’s black coloring melded with the darkness; the moon glinted off the grey peppered in his fur and his large eyes that were glazed in pain. He didn’t speak as he led Robby through the wind-twisted forest and up an old wash to reach a trail worn into the summit of the mountain. The trail rode the ridges of the great mountains and had a wide range of smells that lingered in Robby’s nose. Robby could follow the trail just by the mixture of smells even if he were blind and deaf.

  They traveled at a fast walk through the night and the next day; no words passed between the two the entire time. They watched the sun rise and burn the frost that had gathered as they marched along the spine of the world, mountain top to mountain top. They saw a grizzly watching them as it rooted among a blueberry patch. They bypassed it and dipped down into a canyon drinking from a creek that was bitter cold. Robby looked up the creek to the white capped mountains. He gulped, feeling his stomach twist in dread.

  The snow was coming.

  Tank led the way again at a canter; he seemed to be in a hurry. He eyed a rock outcropping on the distant hill hoping to make it by nightfall. They made it just after dark and rested under the weather-worn stone out of the wind. Robby was glad to stretch out his tired legs and be out of the wind that seemed endless on the mountain peaks. Tank, however, found the act of lying down painful and quietly whined as he sank to the cold ground.

  Robby watched him, wanting to ask if he was alright, but the old dog had a protective kind of pride and Robby wondered if it would annoy him to speak to the old dog like a yearling-pup. Robby was half dozing when Tank’s booming voice broke the quiet of their hideout among the rocks.

  “Do not leave the trail; it’s easy to lose your way; the snow will come soon,” Tank growled looking up at the patch of stars that peeked through the clouds and lit up the night. Robby followed the giant dog’s gaze, watching his breath in the cold breeze float away from their hidden shelter.

  “Will you not be going with me?” Robby asked suddenly aware that he didn’t want to be alone. Fear welled up in him and made a hard lump in his throat. Tank smelled the sudden fear on Robby.

  “No,” Tank said in a whisper of a growl. “My time is short and the next few days are much too long. I like the view from here; I’m close to the stars.” He took a deep breath and was silent for a long time remembering an old friend and the days they had shared. He glanced at Robby with sad, tired eyes. “You will see her again, my short, stout friend. You have the heart of a grizzly, the strength of a bull moose, the courage of an ermine, and the unbending will of man’s cold steel. Dogs like you are forever remembered by the human you love. Just hope you don’t see them sleep the Great Sleep before you,” Tank growled sadly. He seemed to be far off somewhere in his thoughts.

  “Is that what happened to you?” Robby growled quietly, watching Tank gaze at the stars with a strange sheen to his large dark eyes. Tank sighed and took another deep, rattling breath.

  “His name was Robert. How I miss him,” Tank growled before tilting his head back in a deep, sad howl that shook the silence of their mountain top. Every hurt was in that howl, the hurt that loss and loneliness brought. Robby now understood why Tank had left the woman that Smudge-Spot called master. She was not Tank’s master. No matter the love that woman had given Tank, his heart had broken the day his master—his Robert—died.

  Tank howled long and low before they sat in silence watching the sky clear and the stars shine brighter than Robby had ever seen before. Sometime later, Robby drifted off to sleep imagining he was home in his Miss’s arms.

  The sun woke him as it burned away the remains of the cold night; already it felt much warmer as the sun peeked out of its bed. Robby got to his feet, stretching, feeling his ribs ache and his scabbed leg itch the healing itch. He looked over with a wag of his tail having enjoyed Tank’s company a lot on his long journey. His tail stopped, however, and dropped slowly. With a sad whimper, Robby took one last look at the massive black dog that looked so happy and at peace. Then he walked slowly on his way.

  Tank was lonely no more.

  He had joined the Great Pack among the stars, and was back at Robert’s side until the end of the stars, the moon, and the sun.

  fourteen

  Robby thought of Tank and Nana often during the next few days. He remembered their words, their wisdom, and their pride. He hoped he had the strength that they had. Even when death was nipping at their tails, they didn’t tuck it and run; they turned to face it. They had courage to face it alone without whining or crying like a silly little pup.

  They were true dogs, loyal and strong until the end.

  Robby thought a lot as he marched on with sore feet and a sore body. He thought about what it meant to be a dog and why dogs of old had chosen to be at man’s side. Why dog had picked man always left him in deep thought. Man was good, but there was a deep evil in man that dog never understood. Humans were confusing and complex, and yet dogs stood by them no matter the road man tread. They were steadfast with their loyalty to their masters.

  He snorted, clearing his head.

  All he knew was he had to get home; he owed his Miss that much.

  She loved him, and asked for nothing in return. How could he not love her back?

  Late in the morning, he happened upon an old bear-killed moose. He filled his belly and lingered no longer than needed. He kept a steady pace, saving strength in case he needed it. He kept his nose pointed south only leaving the path to look for food and water. He watched the skies for ravens; they showed him where a meal could be snagged before the bigger animals found it.

  He watched his back and his flanks, becoming weary, feeling eyes upon him
. When darkness fell, he heard the howling of his cousin kin, the wolves. He knew them to be empty-bellied eating machines and feared they had picked up his trail. He found a bed among willows that were twisted from the harsh weather and hid within them like a rabbit. Night fell and brought with it a bitter frost and a hard freeze. Robby awoke shivering. He looked around him in panic—the death snow was coming.

  The sun had barely risen when he was off at a fast pace. He had to be out of the mountains and into the lowlands by the end of the night or he would be swallowed up in the heavy snow that fell on the peaks and didn’t leave until late spring.

  He had to see her one last time.

  fifteen

  Robby pushed hard at times. He raced down hills so fast he thought he was going to lose control and tumble, hurting his already sore ribs. His feet were ripped and bleeding by the time he splashed into a creek and sprawled out on his belly panting. The cold water cooled him down and he felt the warmer air around him. Despite the cloudy sky, there were no signs of a hard freeze that brought snow. He still had a few short weeks to go before the snow came; he hoped to be home before then.

  He sniffed the air smelling rotten fish. He wagged his tail, jumping up out of the creek like a happy puppy. It was after spawning season for the salmon and their bodies lined the banks of the river that fed the small creek. Robby would have a feast. He darted carelessly into the woods leaping fallen trees and sending the stupid birds, the ptarmigan, into the trees with angry chuckles and chirps. Robby’s mouth watered. He could taste the rich, tasty fish already.

  Robby leaped free of the trees, fireweed, and the bear grass, so named because it was tall and humans couldn’t see the bears that rooted in it. He barked as he jumped free. But his happy bark turned into a painful cry as a huge grizzly slapped him back into the trees. It roared and chomped its dog-killing, man-eating jaws, and lumbered like a great giant after Robby as he slipped in the wet mud among the trees along the river. The grizzly would have made Tank look like a cub, Robby didn’t want to think of how much the great bear weighed; it made a car look small.