Sarah

Remembering Zena: The Champion, The Athlete, The Teacher and The Companion

Sarah · January 26, 2015 ·

We lost a beloved member of our pack yesterday, Zena. (Not to be confused with ZEMA)

Zena.

The name says it all. Warrior. Fighter. Champion. In her life, Zena was all these things. Like the warrior-princess she was named after, Zena was a dog known throughout the mushing world. She started her life at Lance Mackey’s comeback kennel where she made a big impression, helping Lance to 3 of his 4 Iditarod first place finishes.

A long-legged lean athlete with fierce blue eyes, she certainly looked the part of an Iditarod Champion. When Lance eventually sold her to another musher, we were told, through rumor, that it was for a whooping $10,000 . I’ve never heard of a dog before or after fetching that kind of price so it goes a lot to say about her caliber as an athlete. She stayed with that musher for some time and then went on to Ray Redington for a few months before Ray kindly gave her to us where he knew she would have a good life. Like the celebrated heroes of old she had accomplished much: she deserved a place to come home to where she could have her peace.

Zena in lead givingguests a glacier dog sled ride in Seward, AK — Zena, on the right hand side in lead giving guests a glacier dog sled ride in Seward, AK

Her love to compete was evident from the first time we hooked her up. She loved chasing other teams down and always seemed at home when in harness. On the trail her blue eyes were fierce and focused on the trail ahead, tongue hanging out her mouth in wild joy. There was always a wildness to her on the trail. She was never content with just going she always had to be going just a little faster.

Growing up as an athlete, one of the quotes that has always stuck with me was that “the vision of a champion is someone who is bent over, drenched in sweat, at the point of exhaustion when no one else is watching.” Seeing Zena run for us, although no longer in her prime, I would think of this quote because Zena so clearly exhibited it. Everything she did, she did it whole-heartedly. Zena was a dog who never gave up, who was always straining in harness to just go faster. And even though we had her in old age, she provided a valuable measuring stick when evaluating the caliber of our own dogs. She was really just that good.

At home, there was a quiet gentleness in her eyes that seemed to drink in the world around her. She was content to sit and observe humans without interacting with them. She enjoyed Travis and I and had a special fondness and tolerance for children. She spent the past two winters living with our our friends and Seward locals, Dan and Madelyn Walker. We couldn’t be more grateful for the love and kindness they showed her.

Towards the end, when we learned she had cancer, we were told that the vet could not believe how healthy her heart was or how flexible her joints still were. But it wasn’t hard for us to believe: she was always incredible. She wasn’t just athletic. She also had a certain gracefulness to her in all that she did. Her actions and movement, it appeared to me, were always deliberate.

She was a no-nonsense dog who loved food. It seemed to be one of the few great joys in her life. And one summer when I industriously thought of having ducks, Zena thought of nothing but dinner. She had a litter of puppies at the time (Shark, Hoover and Mr. Clean) and they were, at the time, quiet young. For reasons I don’t entirely remember — perhaps just because she was so special — we left the door to her puppy pen open so she could roam.

When I went to hand out puppies to three women dressed to the nines, I lifted the box to the puppy house to discover that nestled inbetween the puppies were two dead ducks.

The women, duck hunters from Georgia, thankfully laughed at the occasion while I mourned my ducks.

Zena, to her credit, never took any ducks after that. It seemed, to me, as if she could read my body language and disappointment.

Although Zena’s cancer was removed about two months ago it came back early this week with astonishing speed. Madelyn called me to deliver the bad news and on Saturday, I went over and spent a final visit with Zena. All I could think about was that this dog that has done so much, given so much, accomplished so much. How could this be it?

My last visit with Zena an Iditarod Champion and an Incredible Friend and Teacher

Besides her incredible achievements in Iditarod, she gave thousands of people their first mushing experience — first in Juneau and then later on, at our own kennel here in Seward. Zena was always willing to meet guests. When we told her story guests would often want their picture taken with her. She had a great story and she was sensationally beautiful. Her blue eyes stole many hearts and people often commented on how pretty she was. Inevitably, she would oblige for the picture taking — though she didn’t understand the fuss. She was often aloof — the way any great athlete is and chose to make friends outside her mushing family carefully.

My time with her on Saturday brought us both, I think, a little comfort. She nuzzled my shirt and pants smelling, I think, the kennel where that I hope she fondly remembers. It was clear she was in pain. Snape, the Walker’s other dog, routinely came over to check on her in a show of true friendship and she came in and out of sleep.

To say she will be missed and mourned seems so fleeting, so temporary. For Zena was a dog that did not leave a light impression anywhere she went: she left a deep impact. Her absence will be missed but she will be remembered.

During her time with us, she had two litters of puppies. Her first was with Pilot: Shark, Hoover, and Mr.Clean. Her second litter was the past summer with Boston: Zeus, Athena, and Check, after the slash across his chest.

We look forward to their progress and hope that they will live up to their mother’s incredible legacy.

Rest in peace Zena: May you find snowy trails to roam in Heaven!

Dog Of The Week: Zema

Sarah · January 26, 2015 ·

If you asked me to pick a dog that embodies the spirit of our kennel, I would without a doubt choose Zema. Zema is one of the smallest dogs in our kennel but though she is small she is mighty. She is the little engine that could. And does. And does again.

She is one of those rare dogs that has always been a leader. “When I went to harness break Zema’s litter, she was the last dog I was supposed to hook up,” Travis says smiling at the memory. “I miscounted and the only open spot for Zema was in lead. She was really eager to go so I hooked her up front next to her mom, Hope. I was a little nervous – I’d never heard of anyone harness breaking pups in lead, but she took right too it. She’s been a lead dog every day of her life!”

Zema is the lead dog that lead Travis the first 900 miles of the 2013 Iditarod and helped him set some of the fastest checkpoint to checkpoint times.

Zema is wearing booties to help protect her feet. Photo courtesy of Betsy Palfreyman: http://blossomandbetsysblog.blogspot.com/

“I only moved her out of lead because the winds were so strong she was getting blown over,” Travis said. “I finished with Boston in single lead in the 2013 Iditarod so everyone mistakenly makes him the hero. He was a key part of the team, that’s for sure — but Zema was the lead dog who was leading us at lightening paces.”

I can remember when I first met Zema. She was a small 7 month old who was a little shy. When I went to pet her for the first time she peed herself with nervous excitement. A year later, I would be taking Zema on her first race, The 2012 Tustumena 200. She was the heart and soul of my team. I will never forget stopping about 5 miles from the finish to savor the moment. Zema was leaping 3 feet in the air, happy and excited. She would have willingly gone another 200 miles!

In the spring of 2012 we had her spayed. She was small and had trouble maintaining good body weight. Ever since, she has had an obsession with puppies. Whenever we have pups in the kennel, If Zema is let loose her first instinct is to go play and nurture them.

Zema is one of the most dependable dogs in our kennel. She takes tremendous satisfaction in doing her job and doing it well. We’ve had to learn to give our commands at just the right time with Zema otherwise, in her eagerness to please, she will bound off the trail.

Zema has many relations in our kennel. Her direct siblings are Weiser and Madori. She also has 3 half-siblings through her mom: Hank, Dolly, and Varden. She also has several nieces and nephews: Marlow, Bruce, Aldawin, Flo, Pippa, and Bonnie.

Book Review: A Dog’s Purpose

Sarah · January 23, 2015 ·

One of the things people are most surprised to learn is that we don’t have cable. Although we do have television and an active Netflix subscription, we don’t spend much time watching it. When we do have time to relax, we enjoy reading. Travis read and re-reads mushing books and I read just abouth anything I can get my hands or ears on – I’m a big audiobook fan.

Although we certainly won’t do it all the time, I thought it would be fun to share some of what we read. I’ve often found it hard to find good books about mushing or dogs and know that it’s one of the things many people often ask before and after they visit us. Although many people think of “armchair mushing” referring to following races from home, I like to think of it more broadly to encompass any way a person can experience mushing without actually being on the trail.

So we are going to talk about books. Right now, I’m reading A Dog’s Purpose by W. Bruce Cameron. It’s not a book about mushing but it is a fantastic book about a dog. This book spent multiple weeks on the New York Time’s best seller list after it was published. It’s an easy book to get lost in. Many times I’ve picked it up and told myself “just fifteen minutes” but, an hour later, have found my nose still stuck in its pages and my chores left undone.

The book follows the progression of one dog through many different reincarnations as he tries to discover his purpose in life. Interestingly, the book is written from the dog’s point of view and there are so many delightful descriptions that you read and think ”my dog does that!” or “yes that’s exactly what my dog would think!”

Some of my favorite details so far:

“I especially didn’t appreciate it when, with a flick of her tail, Flare [the horse] dropped a smelly pile of poo on the road, narrowly missing me. I lifted my leg on it because it now, after all, belonged to me, but I felt fairly certain the horse had meant the thing as an insult.” (115)

Upon the cat’s death: “I nuzzled them both to remind that that there really was no need to grieve, since I was ok and really a much better pet than Smokey ever was. The next day, after Mom and the boy left for school, I went out into the yard and dug Smokey back up, figuring they couldn’t have meant to bury a perfectly good dead cat.” (133)

“When she hugged the boy, there was so much love between them that I couldn’t help but try to squirm in between their bodies, which always made them laugh.” (166)

These wonderful descriptions fill page after page and it’s easy to get lost in the story and the stories within the story. Besides his own life and experiences, the dog’s descriptions of human relationships are equally entertaining and at times heart-wrenching. The dog doesn’t always have perfect understanding of why his humans are suffering. All he knows is that their joys, are his joys and their sorrows, are his sorrows.

Reading has often left me both happy and sad as the dog finds new people to share his life with, enjoys his time with them, and then passes on into a new life. I’ve closed the book many times teary-eyed after the dog has reached the end of one of his lives.

I’d strongly recommend this book to anyone who loves dogs. I’ve enjoyed the creative approach to this book and have thoroughly enjoyed it.

Check it Out:

Perry: The Practical Retired Sled Dog

Sarah · January 21, 2015 ·

If you want to know Perry’s favorite thing in the world, it’s sleeping on the couch. His next favorite thing in the world is chasing the dog team — for about 15 yards. Now 12 years old, Perry’s biggest thrill comes in the summer time when we are operating our summer dog sled tours. I’ve seen him shake with excitement when he knows the team is almost back from the run. His whole body seizes up and you can see him twitching with nervous energy. He lets out a deep bark and then goes bounding through the team like a wild bowling ball trying to knock down whatever dog he can.

“He’s training the pups,” Travis always tells our guests. “They have to learn to ignore him and just keep running.”

It really is great training. Over the course of the summer, the younger dogs learn to ignore Perry and Perry continues to have fun. At the end of the day, Perry is worn out and gets to come inside or he will sleep on the bed of our demonstration sled.

But every now and then Perry gets locked out of the house in the rain.

It’s been happening more and more frequently this winter. And if there is one thing Perry hates, it’s the rain. He is extremely thin coated and hates the cold. For a long time, our dogs could come and go as they please through a small doggie door located in the side of our house but the miserable weather led me to lock our doggie door. For a week, Perry skulked about at the injustice. At times, it was as if his whole body were trying to convey the message this is so unfair! But the endless procession in and out of the house by wet, muddy, dogs got tiresome. So the doggie door got nixed.

It was supposed to give me more control over the dogs but has ended up being a one way exit out of the house. Perry was the first one to learn. The stubborn old leader did not want to be told what to do. So he learned how to lift the cover and let himself outside so he could go do his business.

Getting back in, however, proved a bit trickier.

Sometimes he would come and sit at the door and barks – which was great when we could hear him. Often, however, we are in our basement working on sleds or massaging down some of our sled dogs and so his barks don’t carry quite far enough. Over time, however, Perry has invented a new solution.

We employ a driveway buzzer. It’s original purpose was to alert us when people stopped by for tours so we could go greet them. It’s a simple motion detector that, when activated, produces a very loud beep that can be heard just about anywhere on our property regardless of whether or not the dogs are barking. We’ve been trained to the buzzer. When the buzzer rings, we go open the front door. It’s like our doorbell but louder, more effective, and gives us a 30 second advantage on anyone who’s pulled in.

So leave it to Perry, who has gotten sick of getting stuck outside, to start using the driveway buzzer to get let in.

At first, we were confused. One day we heard it BEEP! Looked out and saw nothing. About 10 minutes later it went on and off for about a minute, as if someone was just walking back and through it.

“What the heck?” Travis said.

I went to the front door and opened it. At full speed, Perry came rushing down the driveway, jumped onto the front step, and raced inside.

“Well that was clever,” I thought.

And now we have a whole slew of inside dogs who have learned to ring the doorbell when it is time for them to come inside.

Glacier Dog Sledding in 2015: Our Excitement Grows!

Sarah · January 21, 2015 ·

We have to admit even though it is winter, we’ve been thinking a lot about summer. We can’t wait until the 2015 summer tour season when we can share our passion with all of our fantastic guests! Our glacier dog sledding tour is opening almost an entire month early this year with our first tours scheduled for May 4th. YEEHAW!

Our future guests continue calling us completely amped due to the footage they’ve seen on the Travel Channel’s new show, Alaska Starts Here! Although winter has been a bit of a disappointment — if Seward’s weather keeps up like this, our dogs will spend more time on snow dog sledding in the summer than they will have this winter — the mountain tops in Seward have tons of snow so we are expecting to have another great year on Godwin Glacier.

What are you looking forward to this summer?