had nothing on it, while the other sled had all their camping supplies. Francisco called Curly over to be attached to the training sled. She skipped merely to her master to get her harness on. I watched with curiosity as he was putting the harness on her and attaching them to the sled. After that he told her to stay put until he was safely on the back. When that was taken care of, he shouted a word I have never heard before.

“Mush!” He shouted. Curly just stood there, unable to understand the word. Francisco pointed forward. “Mush!” He shouted again. That gave Curly the idea that he wanted her to pull it, and at that moment she shot forward in eagerness. It was a bit hard for her, I can tell, but as soon as the sled caught up with her, it was so easy! I waved goodbye to her as she ran farther away from me. Soon it will be me attached to that sled, running as far as my legs will carry me. This was one of the worst days of my life, so I thought.

In a matter of hours, Curly came back, exhausted, but happy. And there was a huge pile of wood on the sled now. I ran to ask her how it was, and what I will be experiencing. And she told me it was tiring, but loved every minute of it. She said she has never run that fast before. Now it was my turn.

I really didn’t want to do this, but I had no choice if this was going to be my new life. So I let him put me in that awful harness, and attach me to the now light sled. I saw one of the owners pack that wood on the other sled. Francisco did the same thing to me as he did to Curly. He yelled, “Mush!” and pointed forward. Luckily in no time I got the message, but didn’t go until he got really angry. He was about to whip me when I suddenly shot forward! Pulling the sled was a bit of work, but eventually I got the sled to work with me, and we were both on our way.

I didn’t really know where I was going, but all I knew is that I was running. Judge Miller used to take me to a field where all the dogs would run and play. I always loved to run in that field, but I was always on a leash. Then, I just realized, that the only time I wasn’t on my leash, was when I was inside the house. Now I’m…well, not free, but now that the sled caught up with me, there’s nothing holding me back. I never realized it before…I think I was actually going to like this.

We stopped along the way to take a break and pick up some wood. And after that, we were on our way back. And for the first time in a long time, I was having fun! I never thought running would be so awesome! And when I returned, all I wanted to do was to keep going!

We all took a long 30 minute break before we did the real thing. We told everyone our stories from birth to now. Curly went first, then I did. Dave was next and this was his story (With Dave actually speaking):

I was born like any other dog in Alaska:  In the wild. Well, not ALL dogs from Alaska were born from the wild, but a lot of them were, and I was one of them. No I am not a wolf, but my great great grandfather was. So I have a little wolf in me. My mother was a purebred husky, but my father was the one who had wolf in him. We would move to a new home a lot because a lot of trees would come down for campfires and such. Sometimes when a dog doesn’t know that a tree is being cut down, he, or she gets crushed and killed, but that’s only if you’re deaf. Some of the dogs in our pack were deaf actually, because all of them were in a bear fight and got the same results: shattered and torn ears. And one by one over the years they got smashed by fallen trees. When I was old enough, around 2 years old, I and my mother were all that was left of our pack, because we lived by hunters. It was the only place where trees were NEVER cut down. At that moment, when a hunter was near us, my mother whispered to me. She said, “Run to the closest town. You’ll be safe there. No one will think you’re a wolf.” At that time I was confused. So I just stood there. My mom whispered to me again, “There’s a town called Anchorage near here. I want you to run away to there, and make a living.” The hunter was getting suspicious so now her voice was barely even audible. “You will die out here, especially now. I’m old, and had my good eight years of life. I will hold off the hunter. And if I make it, I’ll meet you at the edge of town in about two hours tops. If you wait for more than two hours, that means I didn’t make it.” I didn’t understand one word that my mom said at all, but in a weird way I did understand. However, I was still worried about my mom. “I don’t want you to go mom. I love you.”

“I love you, too, honey, but this isn’t about me. I want you to live like we should have lived ages ago, in town. And I can’t make it by running. My aging bones might not make the trip. Oh, I do wish there was another way, but I’m not letting you fight that hunter. He has a gun. Please, son, I want you to live on our family, and you can’t out here.” At that moment the hunter saw us and began to shoot.

“Which way?” I asked quickly

“That way!” She pointed to my right while dodging a shot. “I love you!”

“I love you, too!” I licked the side of her muzzle, and ran. And at that moment, she was shot, a bulls-eye. Luckily the hunter never cared about me, so he let me go. I went to the town, was a stray for a couple months, and was taken in by a nice family. Unfortunately, after about a year or so, the family had to move and couldn’t take me with him. At first they didn’t know what to do with me, but then they had and idea, and got me a job as a sled dog, so I could have another family, and do my favorite thing, running. I did have a lot of practice the day my mother died, and in the end I decided I loved it! So it was the perfect job for me, that is…before I knew what it was really going to be like.

My first musher was terrible! Not at mushing, but at being a good caretaker. He wouldn’t give us much food. In fact he only gave us and entire fish each if we placed first in races and get messages to towns on time. But that was hard work, and we barely achieved any of that. My team and I were so exhausted and hungry that we didn’t even care about sledding anymore! Just food! Finally he quit mushing when he realized we were just about to pass out or even die. He was so angry at himself, my team, and me, that he committed suicide the next day. With no one to own us, the five other dogs on my team just scattered in all different directions, looking for a new home, a better life. I didn’t know what to do after that. I sat, thinking. I wished I could go back to my human family. They loved me, and cared for me when no one else would. Or my real biological family. I also wished they came back to me, to tell me everything was going to be okay, even though it wasn’t true.

So I became a street dog again for the next couple months. It wasn’t really that bad. At least I got more food than when I was a sled dog. I was a bit happier for the first week. But that’s because some certain alley dogs left me alone until that day. There were five of them, all boys except for one. They had never seen me before, so they figured I was new at this street dog lifestyle. They came up to me, and started talking to me with a welcoming tone. They seemed very nice for the first couple of days, so I started to hang with them, but that was a big mistake.

Soon they started to call me names, kick snow in my face, and beat me up on occasions. So I left them. But it wasn’t that easy. Let’s just say that they didn’t know I wasn’t a newbie. I kicked their tails, and sent them running away from town. Soon after, someone found me. It was a young man who seemed nice. And he WAS nice. But he didn’t keep me long, because his job was to rescue street dogs and sell them. Later I got sold to another musher. Then I kept getting sold, musher after musher after musher. Until finally, I got sold to this one, and met Spitz. Then months later I met you. That’s my story.

All of us were amazed at his story. Especially Curly. But it was a happy-amazed. Because she found someone who’s family is gone, too, and could relate to her, and could feel the same pain. I, however, was just amazed. Even Spitz listed for a little bit, and was surprised as well. He didn’t tell his story, though, but it must have been hard considering he’s been a real jerk. But it didn’t matter if he told his story or not, because it was time to go. The mushers were ready in packing their stuff, and now they just needed the dogs. I gulped. I was a bit nervous about that we are now going to run together, pulling a heavy weight. What if I don’t make it? Well, I guess there is one way to find out, and I KNOW I’m not backing out of this, because that feeling while I was running was the best of my entire life.