Proud of Your Boy

Epilogue ~ Making You Proud ~

Part TWO 

Note: Thanks to a fan of the story, I have decided to add something within the story (and something at the last part too!) to help show the real inspiration for writing this story in the first place. Thanks and I hope you enjoy the second-to-last part of Kodi’s journey!

By the way, the names of the other dogs on Kodi's mail team are Homer, Tango and Michel. They'll be more important in the final part than this one, but those are just my names for them so don't steal those names! Thanks.

- Juuchan17

About several minutes had passed before the young lead dog let out a moan after making his long descent from the mountain path. A light blanket of snow covered his dark red fur; a breeze blew a dusting from his coat, tickling his nose and causing him to let out a quick sneeze. His eyes slowly opened, his vision was blurred for a couple of moments before suddenly clearing so he could survey his sudden change of surroundings.

The flat, rocky ground around him was covered in white, almost as if the area remained forever winter. He felt rather heavy when he attempted to rise to his feet; his legs and joints made slight cracking sounds while he stood up. The red dog looked up the cliff that he had descended from and let out a long, silent gasp of shock; he knew he was lucky to be alive. The cliff was lined with jagged rocks and cascades of snow-covered stair-like areas, almost resembling smaller cliffs attached to the side of the mountain. 

Ah, my head . . . Aah! He began to collapse back onto the ground as he took a couple of steps, but couldn’t maintain his balance yet; an almost stinging pain went through his legs when he landed back on his stomach.

Oh man! Wha-what happened . . . to me? Where’s the team? Where am I? 

Ah – aah-CHOOOO!

He let out a sneeze of chilly cold air and a slight sniffle as his memories of the event suddenly returned back to him. 

Wait . . . I remember now . . .

I . . . I fell . . . down the cliff . . . . The team . . . they’re still up there . . .  or they’ve finished the race without me . . . . Oh, no . . . . The hard truth of the situation finally hit him. 

I’ve failed them, Dad . . . The plane will beat us and it’s all because of me . . .  Our jobs are gone for sure now, and . . . and it’s all my fault . . . . A tear fell from his eye as a long sigh blew from his lips.

I’ve failed everyone . . . . 

“Aahhh-wooooooooooooooooooooooooooo . . . .”

The red quarter-wolf’s ears pricked up at the familiar sound. He didn’t have the strength to speak, but many thoughts circled within his head. 

Who is it? Who’s there? That voice doesn’t sound like anyone I know of . . . .

Suddenly, his head turned to the direction of the voice; his eyes looking into the scene where a gust of snowy wind blew and the voice was audible yet again, with the exact same power and beauty as the first.  

 “Aahhh-wooooooooooooooooooooooooooo . . . .”

Where are you? I can’t see you in all of this snow . . . . 

The burst of flurries ended, revealing the creature that made the harmonious cry. It was a large dog-like animal with a coat as pure white as the most perfect snowflakes that were softly floating from the skies above them. Its long-haired fur of ivory flew in the motion of the wind’s breath as it towered over the reddish-brown quarter-wolf like a mountain overshadowing a lush valley below, glaring at him with thin, sharp eyes of piercing yellow. He gazed up into those eyes in both awe and fear. Never before had he ever seen such a creature before in his short life of almost four years that could ever compare to what was standing in front of his paralyzed body.

You . . . you’re so beautiful . . . Why are you here? Who are you? 

Wait . . . are you here to save me?

The lupine, who spoke not a single word to the young pup, seemed to understand his internal voice and shook its head without a trace of emotion at all. 

He let out a sigh as his now-forlorn expressions spoke silent words of despair to his new white companion.

Oh . . . well, there’s nothing more to live for then . . . You should just leave me to die, since you’re not here to save me . . . Farewell . . .

The snowy wolf knew it had no other choice to get through to him. It let out another howl as the young hybrid lamented in his silence, closing his eyes and placed one of his large paws over his face, accepting his failure as a leader. 

“Aahhh-wooooooooooooooooooooooooooo . . . .”

A few seconds passed before a second howl joined the other. This new cry was deeper, more masculine than the previous one, but just as lupine as the original voice . . . and when it hit the husky-mix’s soft ears of burgundy, he gasped, moving his paw and lifting his head in shock and disbelief. 

“Aahhh-wooooooooooooooooooooooooooo . . . .”

No . . . could it be? 

The sight of the immense white wolf with a much smaller grayish-brown dog beside it made the pup sit up without much difficulty.

D-d-d-dad? 

His vision again went blurred as he tried to make out the smaller howling figure in front of him, but over a couple of quick moments, it cleared, surprisingly showing that his thoughts were true – it was him. His brown eyes widened, astonished by the fact that yet again his father had appeared before him.

Dad? Dad, please! Talk to me!  

As if the wolves could hear the pup’s inner voice, they stopped their howling and looked at each other. The smaller half-breed gave the large white one a longing look, as if he were asking for permission to speak. The other wolf gave the young burgundy quarter-wolf a quick glance and then looked back at the smaller brownish-gray beside it, slowly nodding its perfectly sculpted head, still without a trace of expression. The father returned the gesture with a wide smile, glad that it understood his feelings of wanting to communicate to his youngest son once again, and walked happily towards the one who missed him just as much. 

Thank you . . . Mother . . . 

The red and white pup attempted to stand on all fours so that he could run to meet the very familiar wolf-dog, but his legs, weakened by the fall, still weren’t able to hold up the entire weight of his body; he collapsed in front of the storm of white, just as the shadowy gray figure of his patriarch arrived by his son’s large paws.

The husky child felt embarrassed to even be seen by his father looking like this – he was so close . . . victory was within his reach, and yet he faltered only hours to the finish line. He had failed at being a leader, while his own father had succeeded the same year that he was born. That was what he had always known . . . everyone in town knew that his father was a true hero who successfully led his team home . . . something that the three-year-old felt like he would never be. Again, he covered his face with his paws – for once, this was one time that the son wished that his role model hadn’t showed up. 

“Son.”

The deep yet soft tone of the half-breed’s voice began to fill the air around the two males as they shared the close area all to themselves; the larger white lupine had mysteriously disappeared, leaving them alone, as if knowing that Father and Son needed some moments . . . perhaps it knew that the wolf-dog that gazed up at it with those hopeful red and yellow eyes only moments ago was the quarter-wolf’s only hope of survival now. 

“Son?” the half-breed repeated his call, hoping his husky child would show himself to his own father just like in the old times.

“Go away, Dad,” The muffled voice of the young son murmured from the ground with disappointment echoing from his tone of voice. “I . . . I can’t do this anymore. I . . .,” A stream of tears tricked down his closed eyes as he sniffed out two words that gave the father a shocked expression for a moment. “I . . . I-I’ve failed.” 

The wolf-dog looked down at the pathetic sight of what was his youngest son, who once was so small yet so encouraging to keep trying his best to succeed in whatever challenge stood in his way. Now his once runty son, now three – almost four – was growing up: his head was as low as it could go; his tail, bushy and two-toned in burgundy and ivory, covered his hind legs, hanging in shame; and all of that confidence that once beamed from his smiling face was all gone, vanished into the darkness of despair and defeat. For a moment, the brownish-gray half-wolf had a soft smile, realizing what was truly wrong with his son – for once, Kodi was learning what the agony of defeat felt like, for it was an emotion that he never wished to feel . . . .

For a moment, unknown to the young pup, he was growing up. 

“Kodi . . .” his father bent his head down to dry his son’s salty tears, attempting to comfort and somehow encourage him once again. “I’m here for you, Son.” At the sound of his voice against his dark red ears, the red pup turned them towards his father’s voice. “You know I’ve always been here for you.”

Kodi sniffled then began to reply softly. “ . . . but why do I feel so alone, Dad?” He sniffled again. “You have no idea . . . what I’ve been through today . . .” Sniffling once more, he turned to the patriarch with a thin stream of tears drying against his white cheeks. “Just when everything was going my way, . . . the world crashes down in front of me . . .” He began to sob, causing his father to approach his son with curiosity. As Kodi cried, his voice grew loud, near the point of cracking. “I was so close to getting our team home first, but then . . . but then . . .” 

The wolf-dog caused Kodi to gasp as he nuzzled his son. The warmth of his touch calmed the young pup as his father spoke. “Oh, my son. You are not the only one to feel defeat before.”

Kodi gasped again. “You’ve felt like this?”  

His father nodded. “Everyone feels like they’ve failed at one time or another, Son. It’s not just the two of us that do.”

“But I never would have thought that you, my sled-dog father, had ever felt like failing before!” The burgundy pup was in shock as he spoke, slowly lifting his front legs and placing his body in a sitting position. “What happened to you that made you feel this way?” 

The brown-gray hybrid sat beside him and began to tell him his struggle of over a year prior to his own death. “It all happened the year you were born, only a few months before. I was leading a sled team back to Nome, just like you; however, I had precious cargo to deliver: a supply of necessary serum to cure the sickly people of town.”

“Dad, I’ve heard that story plenty of times! You know everyone knows your story by now!” The red and white pup reminded him. “You found the missing sled team in the wilderness and took control of them, leading them back home. I know, I know that already!” 

“Yes, but there’s one part I never told anyone,” the wolf-dog continued, suddenly grasping his son’s attention. “My team was on a mountain too, and we began to slide down a steep part of one until I was able to catch a hold of a nearly-buried branch. The team was safe, but a rope snapped from the sled, causing the fragile box to fall. Following my instincts, I slid through my harness and leapt towards the remaining ropes, grasping them with my jaws. I let out a sigh of relief, as did my team, but the snowy earth below me began to crumble, collapsing into the rocky walls of the canyon below.”

Again, the son let out a breath in shock. “No way, Dad! How did you even survive that?” 

“Well,” he replied with a slight hesitation in his voice. “You’ve already met the real reason why I survived.” He paused, pulling his head back to let out a howl. The white wolf from earlier suddenly appeared behind the wolf-dog and approached them. “Because of her,” he turned to his side, acknowledging the lupine’s presence. “I realized that I did have the strength necessary to lead.” His head lowered for a moment, his voice was a murmur. “Once I fell, I gave up hope. I felt that this was punishment for doing what I thought was right in my heart. I truly felt as if I had failed everyone – Rosy . . . Jenna . . . the team above me on that mountain . . . all of those sick children who were so close to death . . .” A couple of wet drips formed at his front paws.

“Oh, Dad . . .” Kodi leaned against his father, trying to calm him. 

“It’s okay . . .” The patriarch had a small smile on his face. “Back then, I thought I had failed because I was born a hybrid. She helped me realize that I could succeed by accepting myself as a hybrid.” He looked back up at his son and gazed at him with encouragement. “You have wolf in you too, Son, and you know that very well. Let that part of you show when it really counts, especially when you think about others instead of yourself.”

Kodi’s brown eyes sparkled with the sound of his father’s words, his face beamed with pride as he felt the touch of his father’s paw on his slightly scruffy shoulders of burgundy.  

“I will, Dad,” Kodi said as the white wolf beside his father lifted her head and let out a howl. “You know I won’t let you down.”

The gray-brown hybrid’s ears pricked at the sound of the lupine’s call; he knew it was time to part from his little son. “That’s my boy.” Nuzzling him once more, he returned the howl and saw the lupine walking towards a wall of blinding snow. Walking behind the towering ivory wolf, he turned back at his son, smiling with pride in his heart. “I love you, Son. Do your best, and make me proud – No . . . make us all proud of you, Kodi.” As he ran into the flurry of snow, he let out a howl to his young pup. 

“I’ll make you proud, Dad,” Kodi whispered into the wind, the snow suddenly whipping against his body. “I love you.” The burgundy quarter-wolf, feeling empowered by this unpredictable meeting, began to lift his hind legs from the snowy ground almost as if he had never been injured during the long fall. A loud howling farewell was emitted from his lips as his father and the white lupine disappeared from his view. He paused to catch his breath – a smile formed on his face – and let out another call.

Yes, I can do this! Maybe there’s still a chance to . . . prove myself to everyone after all! The burgundy pup looked upward to where he had fallen with a hopeful glance, still keeping the smile on his face as he steadily approached the bottom of the rocky canyon.Perhaps it was a good thing that he showed up after all, he thought as he halted at the wall of jagged rocks and small cliffs. He took a breath, let it out, and placed his two front paws on the lowest slab of mountain. 

I’ll make you proud of your boy, Dad . . . I promise.

It had been about an hour since the team decided to wait and pray for their fallen companion. He was their lead dog after all, and they were all pulling for a miracle to take place. It was freezing cold at the edge of the cliff, so the Inuit musher held his fur-lined coat closer around his body as he remained firm on his runners behind the sled; he had wanted to continue the race, but his loyal team of huskies refused to budge without Kodi to lead them. Mr. Simpson let out a sigh as he saw his breath freeze in front of him.  

“Oh, Kodi,” the Inuit sighed again, thinking aloud to himself as he took his glance back and forth from his snow-dusted team of six, the empty leather and snow harness that lay in front of them, and the edge of the cliff. “Where are you, boy?”

The musher’s worry clearly could be felt from the dogs in front of him. They looked at each other, at the harness and back at the cliff too, laying close to each other to keep some sort of warmth and keeping their hopes alive for Kodi’s safety. 

Ralph let out a long whistle as he glanced down the canyon. “That’s a long drop down there,” He moved his neck from the cliff and let out a forlorn sigh. “I just hope he’s alive at least.”

“At least?” Dusty turned to him with a gasp. “I’m sure he’s fine. He . . .” She began to struggle with her words as tears began to well up in her eyes. “he-he’s gotta be okay . . . I mean,” She sniffled a bit as Ralph leaned up to dry her eyes. “He’s his son, after all . . .” 

Kirby sighed. “We all know that, Dusty . . . it’s just . . .” He sighed again. “It’s just impossible for him to have survived that fall. Those rocks would have hurt him, maybe even killed him . . .”

The team gasped and began to whine in the thought that their new lead dog might be gone for good. Dusty’s face was buried in Ralph’s neck, turning it a darker shade of gray. The large husky sobbed also as he tried to console the she-dog’s tears, as well as his own. 

“Even if he did survive the fall,” Kirby continued with a heavy heart and a straight face. He was not one to easily show emotion in times such as this, but inside, he was saddened as much as his teammates were. “there’s absolutely no way he could –”

His sentence was interrupted by a nearby howl. All the huskies’ ears pricked up at the noise, unsure of the identity of the cry. 

“W-w-what was that?” The gray and silver-marked wheel dog shuttered in fear. “I-i-it sounded like a wolf or something!”

“Wolves?” Ralph, Dusty, the brown husky beside Ralph and the other wheel dog – another brown male husky with white markings – gasped with fear in unison.  

“Well, I know that this is wolf territory out here,” Kirby calmed them down. “It’s normal for them to be out here . . .”

“Y-y-y-yeah, b-b-but do you k-k-k-know if they . . .” Ralph gulped. “k-k-kill h-h-huskies?” He stammered out, covering his head with his front paws as he trembled with fear. Then he screamed out with tears in his eyes, “I don’t wanna die! I’m too young and beautiful to be killed by wolves!”  

Kirby was unable to give the bulky husky an answer, for not even he knew; he shrugged his wheat-brown shoulders, only causing Ralph to yelp in pure panic. His fear quickly spread through the remainder of the huskies in the form of worried whining and constantly shuttering bodies, but it was silenced as another howl – one that was identical as the first, but slightly louder – flooded the six pairs of canine ears.

“Wait a second . . .” Dusty, whose tears were all dried by now, twitched her velvet gray ears towards the canyon with curiosity. “That voice . . .” She slightly romped forward, stopping at the edge of the cliff; her friends followed her, wondering what had caught her attention. “Could it be . . .?” 

The next howl was stronger and louder now, and much more recognizable than ever. The team smiled as they happily barked, giving Mr. Simpson the sign he – and all of them – had been praying for.

“Huh?” The young Inuit looked at his team gathering around the cliff, barking and yipping at the spot where his lead dog had been lost. Slowly but surely, he moved from his perch behind the sled and walked towards his team, wondering what all the commotion was all about. “What’s this – Kodi?” He gasped in shock and amazement. “Oh my goodness! Kodi! Come on, boy!” He began to call his red and white coated miracle with tears of joy falling from his black eyes, drenching his cheeks below.  

The rest of the team was encouraging him too, as he carefully made his ascent up the rocky ledges of the cliff. He could hear them all coaxing him onward, telling him not to give up and to be careful with his footing.

“C’mon, Kodi!” Dusty lowered her head to her front legs, looking at her fellow teammate beginning to struggle up the rocks. “You can do it!” 

“Yes, you got it!” Ralph stood beside Dusty and began cheering him on. “Go, Kodi!”

“Come on, kid! You’re almost here!” Kirby shouted in an encouraging tone, then he began to chant. “Kodi! Kodi!” 

The other dogs followed along with the cheer as with a sudden new strength, Kodi was only a couple of feet from the top of the cliff where his friends awaited him.

“Kodi! Kodi! Kodi!” 

Step by careful step, the pup’s large white paws scaled each rock, each ledge, each tiny section of the canyon until he could clearly see the detailed emotions of gladness and relief on his companions’ faces. He groaned as he took a slight misstep before quickly recovering his footing, continuing onward. Once he was at the top ledge, Kirby and Ralph grabbed hold of their leader’s collar and pulled him up onto the solid ground of the mountain path while the rest of the team welcomed Kodi back with a howling cheer and a constant stream of nuzzles. Mr. Simpson hugged the brave canine, carefully hitching him back onto his lead dog harness where he belonged and settling the team back down so they could complete the race; for what the team knew, the plane had probably defeated them by now, but at least they returned home to Nome – together.

“Kodi! Kodi!” Dusty nuzzled the lead dog in front of her with a relieved tone. “ Oh my . . . How did you . . . What in the . . .” 

“What happened down there?” Ralph completed Dusty’s query.

“Yeah, how did you even survive the fall?” Kirby also asked. “We were afraid that you had died!” 

“Well, it’s kind of a long story,” Kodi gave them a smile of relief as he looked up into the sky for a quick glance at the light flurry of snow that had fallen from a light gray cloud that strangely resembled a bust of his hybrid patriarch.Thank you, Dad . . . He thought before gazing back at the figure of Mr. Simpson preparing to finish the race. “but right now, we have a race to finish.”

The team nodded, but one of the wheel dogs looked concerned. “But what about the plane?” He asked, turning Kodi’s attention to him. “We haven’t heard the plane around ever since we left White Mountain! What if it’s already reached Nome by now? What if –” 

“I know, I know, Michel,” The lead dog interrupted the gray and silver husky’s questions with a calm yet tense voice. “There is that chance. For all we know, that plane might already be there by now.” Kodi turned his attention to the rest of his team, his voice growing stronger with every word as he spoke. “However, it doesn’t mean we could give up our fight without showing the town that we are still reliable and loyal to our main priority.” The rest of the team joined in Kodi’s encouragement by smiling along and barking.

“He’s right,” Kirby agreed. “The race isn’t over yet!” 

“Well, I’m ready!” Ralph jumped up and down a little to show his excitement. “Let’s finish this race!”

“Yeah!” Dusty grinned. “This race may be our swan song, but we’ll make it worth every minute!” 

Kodi nodded as he heard Mr. Simpson’s command and the tug on his leather reins. “Come on, you guys! Let’s mush!”

With a howl of excitement, the red leader led his team from the mountain path, carefully making sure to watch his footing this time around. They had no idea whether Duke and his plane made it to Nome before them or not, but to Kodi, it suddenly didn’t seem to matter anymore. The main matter was to arrive home safely, win or lose. 

Panting hard, the team of seven dogs plus their musher drew closer and closer to home over the next couple of hours. Still the journey was treacherous as the late-winter sun descended below the woodland branches of pine and the sky’s hue darkened into a dull navy-blue, but their steps remained sure and fast; yet not a single member of the team could sense the silver bush plane’s presence over their heads. Although Kodi was focused mostly on leading his team home, he couldn’t help but wonder where the plane was now . . .

But all of his doubts were gone once the red and white quarter-wolf caught a slight glimpse of the town’s main street lanterns illuminating a gentle glow atop a snowy hill, brightly signaling that they were only about a couple of miles from either an impossible victory or an honorable defeat.  

“Come on, everybody!” Kodi quickly turned his head around to his team with a wide smile. “Nome’s only a mile or so away!” Pausing to catch his breath while still running, he continued encouraging his friends onward. “No matter what happens, we’re all winners on this day.” Seeing the response of smiles from his friends, he beamed with pride charging with a burst of speed. “Let’s sleep as winners tonight, you guys!” he barked.

Kirby, Ralph, Dusty and the other three huskies barked with him as Mr. Simpson shouted for them to mush a couple of times. The little town by the sea was still aglow with candle, lantern and electric lights as the rest of the team ran down the hill and galloped the final straight stretch of snow that led into town and to the local post office on Main Street. 

Jenna had been waiting for hours by the U.S. Post Office building, laying beside the sitting figure of her brown-haired owner, Rosy, who sat on the top step of the walkway, her elbows planted atop her knees and her hands below her chin and jaw. Both females let out a sigh of worry, for neither of them had heard the roar of the bush plane or the barking of the mail team so far that day. The purebred whined softly, brushing her nose against the girl’s soft peach cheek and straight, auburn hair. Rosy returned the gesture with a light rub on her head with her tiny hand and slender fingers. They were both anticipating Kodi’s first sled race as a lead dog when it began earlier that morning, but now they had begun to worry whether the team would arrive first.

Their eyelids lowered in tiredness when they heard a familiar howl on the wind. It was a wolves’ howl, no doubt about it, but it was followed by the hard barks of huskies. Jenna’s burgundy ears pricked upwards at the call of canines, instantly rising to her feet and barking with happiness in her voice. 

“Kodi?” Her eyes widened as she caught a glimpse of red and white from the clearing. “Oh goodness, it’s my Kodiak! Kodi!”

Her barks woke many of the early sleepers, including the postmaster, Mr. Conner; he rushed out of his bed and covered his long pajamas with a long coat, running into his boots and out the front door of the post office with his faithful yet worried-sick terrier, Mel rushing by his side. Other people sprinted out of their cozy homes and out onto the street where local dogs barked and cried out a wake-up call to the citizens of Nome. 

The shape of the approaching team of dogs grew clearer to the young girl and her dog, and the quarter-wolf seemed to run faster the closer they got to the stirring people and animals that poured out onto the brown and white ground of the main street of town, awaiting their safe homecoming.

Once the team sprinted past the telegraph office at the beginning of Main Street, Kodi instantly slowed the team down to a brisk yet quick trot for the remainder of distance to the postal office where Rosy, Mr. Conner and Mel awaited their arrival. Jenna, quickly followed by the red and white figures of four other huskies, shadowed the sled team’s movements as if to give them a heroic escort back into town. Kodi turned to his mother and siblings, greeting them with a smile as he continued to enter the well-lit area surrounding the postal office where a large crowd welcomed the team with cheers. His head was held high, as was his teammates, for they knew not whether they had finished the race first, but they continued to feel in themselves that they were indeed winners in their own account, no matter the outcome. 

The cheering died down as the team slowed from trot to a steady walk, then halted in front of the Post Office’s steps where Mr. Conner awaited the sack of mail from the musher. Once the team stopped, Mr. Simpson leaned in front of him, grabbing a hold of the mail sack and handed it to the awaiting postmaster for word of the results.

“Here is your mail, Mr. Conner,” the Inuit sled driver announced. “Did we beat the plane?” Although he too was doubting that his team might have beaten the bush plane, he braced himself for the news, bad or good. 

“Mr. Simpson,” The postmaster began to speak after placing the mail sack beside Mel and clearing his throat for silence, allowing everyone to hear the official results of the race. “I’m sure that you and everyone present knows a mail deliver’s motto: ‘Neither snow, nor rain . . .”

“‘. . . nor sleet, nor hail will stop the US mail,’” Kodi completed the phrase in a light whisper as the postmaster muttered the same words that the quarter-wolf had first learned the day he began on the mail team. Those words had helped him realize the importance of the job of which he was chosen to be a part of. Ever since that day – especially after the night when he saw his father on the mountaintop – he had lived by that rule. 

Mr. Simpson nodded. “Yes, my team and I have worked by that motto since we’ve began this route together.”

“Indeed you have, Mr. Simpson, and all of us here would have to agree that thanks to your team, we have delivered more mail quicker than ever before,” Mr. Conner continued as the Inuit male constantly nodded his head in agreement to the comments on his team of seven. “From what I know, all the other teams from other towns lack the ability to travel with the speed and vigor that your team has performed day after day.” 

“Thank you, sir,” The musher smiled, keeping his nervousness hidden. “I appreciate your kind words, and I’m sure the dogs do as well.”

“Yes, I’m sure they do,” The postmaster responded back. 

The intensity of the wait for the results was beginning to get some of the citizens impatient. Even Jenna was growing anxious for the official results; although she hadn’t seen the plane arrive during the day, she was afraid that her youngest child’s dreams were about to crumble yet again if the postmaster surprised them with bad news. The team, however, was nervously awaiting news of victory or defeat, but they remained strong in their belief in what their leader had told them only a while ago – they were all winners in their own right, even if they were told that they had lost.

Out of the entire team, the dark burgundy and ivory male was truly the most worried of all. He gulped with every sentence that the brown mustached male was telling them, his heart racing with equal feelings of anticipation and concern. Although he believed every word he had told his friends about them all being winners in the end, he was starting to wonder if he would still make his father proud of him if his sudden fall had cost the team a crucial victory. He let out a sigh as he lowered his head, closing his eyes in fear of the upcoming results; a loving nuzzle and a comforting lick from his smiling mother made all of those fears disappear from the three-year old’s face. 

“No matter what, Kodi,” Jenna whispered into her son’s ear. “you’re still a winner to me . . . and all of us; I’m sure that if your father could see you now, he’d be smiling.” She nuzzled him on the other side of his face, completing her words in his other ear. “You’ve made him very proud, Kodiak.”

“Thanks, Mom,” he returned the gesture then allowed her to return to her other four children and her nine-year old owner. He let out another breath as the results were finally revealed from the postmaster. 

“And Mr. Simpson, it has truly been an honor to work with you and your team . . .”

“Oh no . . .” Ralph whimpered, detecting an early result of failure from the beginning of Mr. Conner’s sentence. “That doesn’t sound –” Before he could say any more, the other dogs hushed him by placing their own paws over his mouth. 

“ . . . and it is my greatest pleasure to inform you that we will be working together for a while longer.” Mr. Conner’s mouth curved into a smile as his tone changed from tense to joy. “Congratulations, Mr. Simpson! You and your team are the winners of the race!”

A slight pause led to an uproar of cheers, barks and howls from everyone in town. Dogs joined together, singing in their natural chorus of jubilant cries and wails, while people began hugging each other, as well as the excited young musher, and his brave team of seven dogs that had made the perilous journey against a true work of new technology that everyone had feared would beat the dog-sled team. 

No dog in town was as happy as the red and white lead dog at that moment. Tears of pure joy spilled from his eyes, soaking his white cheeks with the salty liquid. His team nuzzled and patted him in congratulations for doing such a great job on his first run as lead dog. His mother and siblings joined him with their tears of happiness for the remainder of the hour, then they left him so that he and his team could rest for the night in the boiler room.

Although he was glad and truly relieved that his accident on the mountain path didn’t cost them their jobs, Kodi waited for his friends to be unhitched from their harnesses before he glanced his brown eyes up at the sky, wondering where their opponent was. 

This is strange . . . We last saw the bush plane back at White Mountain, but . . . but we hadn’t heard any sign of its presence ever since.

What could have happened to it? To the pilot?  

I know I shouldn’t be so worried about the fact that they’re not here, but . . . I can’t help be concerned by something . . .

My chest aches . . . and I don’t know why . . . 

Oh, Dad . . . I’ve made you proud like I promised, but why do I feel this pain deep inside?

What more can I do, Dad? 

(6/22/07 – finished part 2)