Clifford The Big White Dog

Cliffie is my "Sherpa replacement dog". Although Sherpa was a once in a lifetime kind of guy, Cliffie resembles him so closely it's a little astounding. After Sherpa died, the house was just not the same without a big fluffy white critter. So a few days later, I got on Petfinder and behold -- there he was! In Spokane Washington, at an animal shelter. But his name was Clyde, and he was surrendered with his sister Bonnie. They were 3 years old and described as German Shepherd and Great Pyrenees mixes.
I called that shelter, and the poor person on the phone was skeptical...someone coming from Alaska, please hold the dog for a few days. She put the manager on. He was skeptical too, but I convinced him to hold Clyde for 3 days so I could make flight arrangements.
My husband is a genius at organizing travel; he got a flight (had to transfer from Seattle), rental car, and dog friendly Motel 6. There was a PetSmart in the area where I could buy an airline kennel for the return trip. I called the shelter back and let them know I'd be there in 2 days.
The shelter was enormous, like a warehouse. There was 1 long row of dogs, all with chain link indoor/outdoor runs, 60 of them, and all full. I checked the row and no Bonnie or Clyde. I asked an animal tender, and he said wrong row, go out and take the next door. There was ANOTHER row of 60 dogs. Wow.
Bonnie and Clyde were kenneled together. She was definitely the dominant dog. She was more like a White German Shepherd in appearance and manner. And high-strung. Clyde was just the opposite: taller, longer coat, quiet, polite. He kept out of his sister's way. Their owner surrendered them for killing chickens.
I was allowed to walk Clyde around outside. I called my husband on the cell phone right away and said we were leaving. I renamed him Clifford since Sherpa and I always watched the cartoon "Clifford The Big Red Dog" and changed the words to the song around.
Cliffie at the shelter

We were given a card for a free vet check, so we went to the vet indicated and got a health certificate for travel for the airline. Then we went to PetSmart and tried out an extra large crate. Note to self, forget "economy size" rental cars in the future.
After a lunch break, we pressed on to the motel. Cliffie was nervous but did whatever I asked, until he saw a housekeeper vacuuming in the hallway. He was completely terrified.
At 5am the following day, we were at the airport. The extra-large crate did not fit properly on the slanted luggage carts in the parking lot. So I had to walk Cliffie thru the airport. Fortunately the place was pretty empty.
A few hours later, we were stranded in Tacoma with a mechanical problem. Cliffie and another dog were pulled off the plane, and their crates left standing in the sun on the tarmac. I had to wait my turn in the irate crowd to speak to an airline person...could someone walk the dogs, give them some water, move the crates into shade. The person at the desk was surrounded by angry customers, but I pressed that the dog had been in the crate for almost 9 hours now. He radioed the crew.
The crew went out and walked, watered, and played with the dogs. The other owner and I weren't allowed out onto the tarmac, but we could watch through the window. The pilot really liked Cliffie and walked him 4 times.
After a 4 hour delay, we were given a new plane and on to Fairbanks. This is why I would never let a dog fly alone, he needs to be accompanied!

Cliffie and Glacier

Thanksgiving Day 2006

Time for dinner! Let's go! Tofurky for the humans, fish for the canines! And it's -26 below AGAIN...

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.

More Moose Follies

This is what I gotta contend with while scooping poop...

Ruff Ruffman

Ruffman is a gorgeous dog. He is a 9 year old retired sled dog who was dropped off at the shelter. He was there for about 2.5 weeks, and no one showed interest in him. He's a real sweetheart so I took him home! Ruffman's real name was Big Guy, and when he was a puppy his name was Trout. He raced when he was younger and even ran half of the Yukon Quest. He's still wearing a battered Yukon Quest tag on his collar. He's a shy guy but very nice!

Bunny

Bunny is a real wildcard. She is crazy in the house, and is afraid of almost everything. Her previous owner said she is a Samoyed mix; I think she's Samoyed and Husky. Like our other Samoyeds, if you put her on a leash, she will pull in a straight line and go into a trot, and can go forever. She's never been in harness, but I figured she'd perform the same.

And she did! Her first impulse was to run, fast as possible. Glacier LOOKED at her, shrugged if a dog can shrug, and started running alongside her. After a few minutes, Glacier slowed her into an extended trot. Bunny was excellent! She is not the brains of the kennel, but what a performance. Glacier did the thinking, and Bunny pulled very well. She even broke into a run again on the way home and pulled Glacier past the driveway.

Here's another shot of Glacier's harness. I'm so pleased with it, I'll buy some more.

First Mush of the Season

This afternoon I ran two different sets of dogs. Since we're at the new house (more on that later), none of us know the trails or area very well. For the first set, I opted for power, not speed, and choose Glacier and BamBam, who are both very large 75 pound dogs.




This is Glacier, he is a Pyrenees and Lab mix. He is modeling an Alpine Outfitters Urban Trail Harness. It is fully padded with fleece and has reflective tape. I like that it has a center pull ring, and doesn't put any weight on the dog's hips.

Glacier was a perfect gentleman and did everything just right. He lined out, pulled well, took directions and stayed on the trail for the most part.



BamBam was a handful. He didn't want to harness up, tried to chew everything, got tangled a lot, and frequently went off the trail to look at something or go pee. BamBam did have his moments though, and took the turns very well.

Our sled is a Laughing Husky 5-foot beginner. It has lived to fight another day...