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Klondike’s
New Home
It
is with sadness and a heavy heart that I have made the decision to adopt
Klondike out to a new “partner” and his loving family in Colorado
Springs.
In
the 5-1/2 months Klondike and I were partners, I met a substantial
number of people who made it their business to tell me how I should
train Klondike, and that I was “abusing” her by taking her on such a
long walk. (They also gave me tons of advice on how I should be walking
across North America – ironically, they have never done it before.)
As
I was always open to helpful hints regarding dealing with Klondike’s
natural-born “independence,” I would listen attentively to what they
had to say. Since their “advice” varied from the absurd to the
marginally absurd, I quickly began to ask one qualifying question:
“Have you every owned a Siberian husky?” In every instance, and I
repeat every instance, the answer was, “No.”
I also found another thing: husky owners will not try to tell
another husky owner how to handle their dog -- unless asked, of course.
Then you will hear some of the wildest stories ever – and anecdotes
that may only work with their particular dog.
If
my experience is any indication, I have no doubt that there will be
those who question my decision. This demonstrates only one thing: they
have never tried to walk across North America with a Siberian husky, and
Klondike in particular. Therefore, I write this with the intent to
dispel some myths about huskies and shed some light on Klondike’s
unique personality. I also hope to help you understand why I made the
difficult decision that I did.
1.
No two husky personalities are alike – they can vary greatly. I have
met some that were one-partner dogs, others that piddled at the site of
a new face, and still more that clearly had no “owner.”
The
three main traits that huskies share are: incredible independence,
insatiable curiosity and a keen intelligence – they have been bred
this way. This often gets them the label “stupid” by those who have
not taken the time to learn about the breed. (They also need lots of
physical activity due to their high energy levels.)
I
quote from An Owner’s Guide to the Siberian Husky: “Just what
is canine intelligence? Is it a willingness to obey every human command
without question? The Siberian doesn’t think so, and he conveys his
opinion on this most brazenly each day {AMEN!}. No, to the Siberian and
to those who love him, the intelligent dog is one who decides for
himself, according to his own thoughts at the moment, whether he will
obey. In short, the Siberian may entertain a command, but he will obey
only if he deems that to do so is relevant {See: bolting below}. . . .
Of course, such a potentially headstrong dog is not what every dog owner
looks for in a pet. Yet for those who do, there is nothing more stunning
than the Siberian’s mind at work – and nothing more challenging.”
This
is something my dog obedience instructor, Denise Dawson at Northwest Dog
Training in Colorado Springs, really helped me understand.
Klondike especially responded to the click-and-treat technique
that she and her associates taught, because it turned learning into a
game. And Klondike was always up for a game. I highly recommend their
course to anyone who has a dog, especially a headstrong dog.
2.
Klondike is a 43-pound greeting, loving and licking machine. She
is fantastic with kids – I know she thinks they are somehow related to
her. She is incredibly sociable with other dogs – so much so that some
of the dogs would get angry at Klondike’s single-mindedness to induce
them to play. In fact, the several times she bolted and got away from
me, I soon learned to quietly walk (or drive with windows down) the
streets listening for dogs barking like crazy. Once I heard this sound,
I would merely find the source, and find Klondike standing on the other
side of the fence, showing the dog/s a big husky grin while it/they got
hoarse.
3.
When I was in Florida, a good third of the people I met told me
that Klondike shouldn’t be in such heat – that her fur was designed
to protect her from extreme cold weather and that she wasn’t designed
to handle Florida’s climate. In fact, several women went so far as to
scold me for not SHAVING Klondike’s fur. One in particular was ruder
than the rest and informed me that if I really cared for Klondike, I
would shave her promptly and that her fur would grow back in time for us
to reach the Arctic. I have never heard anything so preposterous and far
from the truth in my life!
Let
me set the record straight for those who would suggest such a thing. A
Siberian husky has two layers of fur. The undercoat (next to the skin)
is soft, dense and fluffy and works to warm the dog in colder
temperatures. It is protected by the outer coat’s guard hairs, which
keep ice and snow from penetrating the undercoat. This unique coat also
works just as effectively to keep the husky cool. For those who have any
further questions about this, please feel a husky’s outer coat when
she is standing in the sun. Then slide your fingers into her undercoat
and take note of what you feel. You will see that Mother Nature, once
again, has done a remarkable job of protecting her creatures.
(On
this same note, I must say, the arrogance of the human race never ceases
to amaze me. I often wonder how long it will be before we – humanity
as a whole – realize that we are part of a much larger picture, and
that no one species or race is smarter or better equipped than another
– that we are all one. Each day I pray, as I hope you do, that we will
come to realize and respect this before we are no more.)
4.
Huskies are born to run and pull. I think back to the wonderful
letter Mayor Mary Lou Makepeace wrote introducing me to wary law
enforcement officials who saw a “road weary traveler leading a
Siberian husky” through their community. I must correct this
statement. Most of the time it was the other way around. In fact, the
farther north we headed, the more peoples’ accents let me know we were
heading into the South. As we would pass through small towns, there were
always a few folks who would just stand and watch as we walked past
them. More than once I thought I heard something like, “What the
. . . . Now they-yer’s
sompin u don’t sees ev’r day. Hey, Maw! Look! They-yer’s some
kinda woof-dawg pullin’ a ma-yin with-a gawd-awful big pa-yik uptha
road.”
I
swear I am not making this up! Actually, after the first couple of weeks
– and the purchase of a choke chain – Klondike matured nicely and
would only pull me for a couple of miles during some mornings . . .
instead of all day.
Now,
I can hear Denise scolding me for using a choke chain instead of the
Gentle Lead I bought from her during our course. The Gentle Lead is
designed to break “pulling” dogs of their nasty habit. It fits over
a dog’s face similar to a muzzle, but connects to your lead from a
loop near the dog’s mouth. When said dog pulls, said contraption pulls
tighter and applies pressure to the back of said dog’s head in such an
ingenious fashion that it even got Klondike to quit dragging me all over
the doggy park in Colorado Springs.
But,
there is a but. The contraption must fit very tightly on the dog’s
face, or said dog will claw it off, and then it is next to impossible to
get it back on said dog’s face. They do something like, “What? Not
THAT thing again! NO WAY!” and they start backing up. It’s rather
embarrassing trying to chase a dog all over the shoulder of Hwy. 27 in a
crouched position, and you can’t catch her, even when she is backing
up! Anyway, the device is very tight, and in Florida’s heat, Klondike
could not pant as well as she needed to. Whenever I would put it on, she
made this sick wheezing sound and her glare at me suggested that we
weren’t partners anymore.
Another
thing that I found rather interesting (and sometimes annoying when
people were rude about it) was the number of people that were concerned
about Klondike’s paws and whether she could walk 7,000 miles. Hello!
Huskies are bred to run over 60 miles a day. When they race, they
frequently run 100 miles a day. And the big races now are monitored by
vets and animal rights groups, according Alaska Magazine. The AKC
classifies huskies as a “working class dog.” The 15 to 20 miles a
day we walked are just a warm up for her kind. Besides, her paws got the
same attention my feet did, and they toughened up nicely, just like my
feet did. She also learned pretty quickly that it was cooler to walk on
the dirt rather than the hot pavement (which would reach 120 degrees on
some days – according to my thermometer).
5.
Lastly, and probably the most important reason I made the
decision I did. Klondike would go nuts any time there was a wild animal
(or horse or livestock) nearby, and when I was least expecting it, she
would bolt and head off on her own little tour of adventure sans her
partner and the “leader” of this trek, me.
She
did this several times in Key Largo (breaking the potted metal clips on
her cable), chased chickens through yards and into streets in Key West,
escaped while I slept along the Suwannee River, and explored the back
streets of Long Beach, MS, for about 30 minutes. When she broke free
along the Suwannee, she bent her cork-screw stake 45 degrees,
straightened two heavy duty key chain rings I had attached a brass snap
to, and pulled the loop tight on her 480 lb. cable. Basically, her
restraining gear looked like something from a Steven Spielberg movie had
prowled into camp while I slept, ripped her off her cable, and left with
not so much as a foot print. And she is only 43 pounds! Luckily, a girl
from a nearby campsite found her roaming the campground and brought her
back.
However,
the last thing that really made me think was when we woke up one morning
to find a mama black bear checking us out from 60 feet away – and
Klondike wanted to go play with her! (See November
3rd entry) (I had talked to a fellow in
Colorado who almost lost his two huskies to a black bear for the same
reason.) Her cub was already treed, and she kept getting closer to MY
TENT as I made a point to not dally breaking camp. Actually, part of the
experience was rather funny. As the sow slowly closed the distance I
suddenly realized that something was missing – I didn’t hear a calm
voice-over commentary describing what was happening, BECAUSE I WASN’T
WATCHING THIS ON DISCOVERY CHANNEL FROM THE COMFORT OF MY HOME!
I
stand corrected, there was a voice in my head, it was Steve, the
Crocodile Hunter, and he was saying something I have never heard him say
on his show.
In
retrospect, I realize how close Klondike got both of us to possibly
being killed. And not the kind of killed you see in movies, but rather
the kind where they set a picture of you in one piece on the casket lid,
say prayers, cry a little, and throw dirt on you
–
F-O-R-E-V-E-R.
I
have been told by other husky owners that I may never break her of this
habit, and I can’t risk trying to. When I leave Colorado Springs, I
will be in black bear and grizzly country for the rest of the trip. (My
food will have to be suspended in a tree every night and I won’t be
able to wash my cook pot anywhere near my camp.) Then, in the Arctic,
there are polar bears, the most dangerous bears alive – and I don’t
want to think about them right now.
Therefore,
in good conscience, I can no longer risk Klondike’s or my life and
well being by keeping her on the road with me.
Klondike, I will miss you,
Pardner. May your days be slightly less exciting, but most certainly
safer in your new home.
Your
forever pal, Robert Lewis Knecht.
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