Retired Racers

When we moved to Alaska from New York City in 2002, my first thoughts were to get a team of Alaskan Huskies. After all, we were now living in a remote cabin with no electricity and no water, and the closest neighbor was a mile away. No traffic, just trails. Perfect, right? We quickly developed a mantra for dealing with sled dogs: “Guess again” (actually, it was more graphic than that, but...)

Since we had no phone or satellite, we regularly drove about 15 miles to the little town of Anderson to use internet access in the Anderson school library. I frequently checked the website for the Fairbanks animal shelter. Two weeks after our arrival in Alaska, someone had surrendered an ENTIRE team of Alaskan huskies to the shelter! They were “pedigreed”, each having detailed lineage from famous mushers.

We made the 90 mile trip to Fairbanks the next day. So many dogs! It was very hard to choose, and there was competition…people were lined up in the lobby, silently poring over pages of pedigrees. We were escorted outside in large groups to look at the dogs. It was December and freezing cold.

I selected 3 dogs. One was named Peanut, and I picked him because he was friendly and affectionate. Then I noticed on the paperwork that most of the dogs were littermates, and Peanut had a brother named Butters. Many of the dogs were already adopted, I had to move fast. Butters was hiding in his doghouse, no one even noticed him. I gently pulled him out, and he was a cuddly, lovable guy. They were 7 years old…how could I separate them now? So, guess again, now it’s 4 dogs to adopt.




Peanut and Butters looked like twins and it was difficult at first to tell them apart. They even acted the same! They chewed up everything – sticks, wood, doghouses, collars. They dug enormous holes in the yard, real legbreakers when walking in the dark. We put them in harness with great expectations – and they spinned in circles. However, if we pointed them back toward home, they ran full tilt, stopping right at their doghouses. Race dogs? Guess again.

Peanut was the crazier dog – energetic and nervous. But he was vibrant and healthy. His brother was the opposite – laid back and calm. Butters also had a host of mishaps and problems. He broke a tooth trying to chew on a stainless steel dog dish. He developed 2 mysterious rashes that the vets could not figure out. While 7 years is only middle-aged for an Alaskan husky, Butters acted like he was 99. He later had Old Dog Vestibular Syndrome (an inner ear problem) and now has a slight but permanent head tilt.

Butters



On Memorial Day in 2003, a huge forest fire broke out in our area and we had to evacuate. I loaded the housedogs into my car, and the sled dogs and all worldly possessions into our school bus. Good plan? Guess again. The dirt roads were too muddy for the bus, and it promptly got stuck. We released the dogs and hoped for the best. Two days later, we were allowed to return to the woods. Fortunately the fire blew in the opposite direction and our cabin was safe. The dogs emerged from the trees. Except for Peanut and Butters. They had decided to travel out the main "road", right into the fire. They were a little singed and smoky, but ok. A fireman picked them up together.

After 9 months of hard labor in “the bush”, and many arduous drives for veterinary visits, we bought a house in Fairbanks and prepared for the move with 15 dogs in tow. Peanut and Butters had lived outdoors all their lives. I decided to start housetraining them since a dogyard was not very feasible at the new home.

I started with crate training and Peanut was thrilled! I could turn him loose and he’d run right into the crate. He quickly figured out how to take potty breaks.
Peanut



Butters, however, would cry continuously in the crate. For hours, all night, if need be, until I would let him out. This training tactic was not working for him.

After we moved, my husband built a pen for them so they could be loose outside together. This worked great! Then winter came, and temperatures that were 20, 30 degrees below zero. Peanut was oblivious. Butters, however, looked pitiful; he could no longer withstand such weather. Since they were so inseparable, I brought both of them into the house.

We have many housedogs. Peanut and Butters got along with everyone, although Peanut could be stand-offish. And Peanut marked everything, acting territorial. Butters would simply let loose a full bladder without warning. Ack! But Butters began to take cues from the other dogs and learned to potty outside with frequent breaks.

Peanut, however, was being ornery. He was growing possessive around food. One day, a lone nugget of kibble was on the floor, and Peanut spotted it. Cliffie our Pyrenees mix also spotted it, and a fight ensued. I quickly broke it up, but from that moment, it was a feud, and Cliffie and Peanut could no longer be in the same room together. I tried crating one while the other was in the house, taking turns. But they also began to fight out in the yard. So finally I decided to put Peanut back outside. Could he be separated from his brother? Guess again.


This is Cliffie


Peanut howled and howled for almost a week. If he heard me calling Butters, he would cry. But he gradually got over it, and now hangs out with Honey, our alpha female, and he accepts her authority.

Surprisingly, Butters did not seem to notice that his brother was missing! But meanwhile he has become very attached to his mommy. He has also slowed down more, has trouble with stairs, and sleeps a lot. His eyes are becoming cloudy. Butters is visibly getting frail…but just yesterday he stared down a youngster who was sleeping on his favorite dogbed in my office…the youngster moved to the floor, and Butters has been loudly snoring away. Getting old? Guess again.