even though he was the smallest male of the litter. 

The pup named Yukon leapt forward at the sound of her name. The last female was red and white like most of the others, except she had blue eyes like her other two sisters and a well-groomed red blaze down her white face to the tip of her nose.

‘Yeah, you both can challenge me, but I’ll still win no matter how much training you both get!” She bragged with a giggle. “But I’ll still love ya both anyways.” First Kodi, then Yukon happily nuzzled their sister before Balto and Jenna made their way towards the young she-husky. 

Jenna, being the caring mother that she was, quickly nuzzled her daughter with her nose. “Oh, Saba,” Tears flooded her eyes as usual. “I can’t believe you’re leaving us.”

“It wasn’t up to me unfortunately,” Saba replied. “If I had a choice, I’d want to stay here with you guys.” She nuzzled her mother back. “Thank you so much, Mom, for reminding me about everything.” 

Almost everything, Jenna thought to herself. She had not reminded Saba of anything that would cause her more pain and heartbreak . . . especially about one certain thing that she and her mate had learned about only a week ago.

Saba turned to her grizzly-furred father with a kind smile. “And you, Dad,” she nuzzled him on the neck as she whispered something into his ear. “Thank you for teaching me about my heritage. I hope that you can tell Aleu about it when she’s ready.” 

Balto only separated himself from her and nodded proudly with a smile. He knew that he could trust Saba with his secret of being half wolf and that all of them were quarter-wolves by blood. Saba had noticed Aleu’s differences once she learned of being part wolf, and asked her father why her eldest sister looked so much like him; he had only responded: “I guess she’s special in her own way. You are special because you’ll always be my little princess.”

A loud whistle pricked Saba’s red velvet ears up. Turning towards the sound, she let out a bark, acknowledging that she had heard the call. It was her young human, the raven-haired Marilyn, that called her. 

“Come on, Sara!” She shouted, whistling once more. “It’s time to go on the boat now!”

Jenna let out a sigh, hoping that this wasn’t about to happen. “I . . . I guess it’s time for you to leave us.” Not a single pup or canine there had a dry eye, for they knew that anything could happen once she got on that boat. 

“Yes, it is,” Saba took a deep breath and smiled, shining with all of the power of her pure heart. “But this isn’t goodbye forever . . . I hope.”

“It won’t be the last you see of us, Saba,” Balto assured her. “We’ll all be here whenever you decide to return for a visit . . . and we’ll always be in your heart and memory if you need to remember us.” 

However, one of their children was missing in action; the almost yearling was afraid to even go with the others to the dock.

“Too bad my other brother couldn’t be here to wish me bon voyage,” Saba sighed sadly. She remembered that she was informed that she had another sibling, but her parents had told Saba that he would be unable to attend due to another important training mission for young sled dogs. “But I understand his passion . . . to be so devoted to something like that  . . .” She sighed again as her mistress let out another whistle. 

“Sara! What are you waiting for! Mama says we have to board now!” Marilyn ran halfway up the thin, wooden rampway onto the ship. “Hurry up, girl!”

“I have to go,” Saba lowered her head as if she wanted to cry. “Goodbye, everyone!” Her face was now in the bright smile that they all loved and would always remember. “I love you and I’ll miss you!” She quickly galloped towards the wooden dock, running up to the ramp and to Marilyn’s awaiting arms. The girl waved at her dog’s family with her short arms flailing quickly in the air while Saba barked to her family. The six dogs barked back, returning the farewell. 

Dingo’s ears pricked up at the noise coming from the pier as he sat on the top of his father’s grounded boat at the other side of town, looking out at the large barge that was only minutes away from leaving Nome. He let out a sigh; Dingo couldn’t bear to tell the sister he loved goodbye forever . . . or even look at her for the most part. That Saba was not the one he truly loved; because of her brain damage, Saba couldn’t recall anything about Dingo or the fact that she once loved him when they were much younger. Because of that, the young husky pup had forced himself to stay away from the hospital, in order for him to not be tempted by his sister again.

Although he wanted to be there to take one last glimpse of Saba’s beautiful face, he knew his father wouldn’t allow it. 

I know he wouldn’t like it if I had showed up, Dingo thought to himself as he heard the departure whistle blow out, signaling that the ship was setting sail. He might be afraid that I would attempt to remind Saba of my love for her again, even though I know he and Mom heard me take back everything. After what he did to me last week, I don’t want to take any chances right now. He sighed as he began to watch the freighter pull away from the dock, tooting its horn several times as the quarter-wolf stood proudly on the top of the boat. Dingo let out a loud and long howl, hoping that his sister would at least hear his voice one last time.

Goodbye, my lover, my little sister . . . my precious Saba . . . Maybe our paths of fate will intertwine once more one day . . . 

(Part I – completed 8/10/07)