Toby: A Life Unlived

The wind swirled and howled around a man and two dogs. The man carried a shivering little girl in his arms, doing his best to shield her exposed face from the stinging snow with his body. Ahead of him strode two dogs in single file, clearing the barest semblance of a path. The dog in the lead struggled to keep moving, taking his progress in leaps and bounds. With each landing, his chest plowed into the surface of the snow. As his chin struck the ice each time, a spray of powder kicked up into his nose, eyes, and ears.

As he sprang into the air again, he strained his eyes for any sign of a place to get out. They were walking along what was probably a riverbed during the warmer parts of the year, the banks on either side too steep for anyone but the man to jump out. And the dog knew that the man would never abandon them or the girl in his arms, even if it meant none of them might ever be found.

'But we have to get back,' thought the dog, fighting desperately to keep warm, as if his will could drive back the cold creeping into his paws and up his legs, seeking to sink its icy talons into his chest and strangle his very heart. There were so many back there for him. Friends, loved ones, and one particular loved one with whom he had so recently had a bitter exchange of words. He couldn't let it end like this, couldn't let such a conflict be his son's last memory of him.

'I have to get back,' Toby thought to himself. 'I have to talk to Melchior.' He let out a vaporous sigh and kept struggling on. Even now, as darkness closed in and strength ebbed with every movement, he could remember it all: the arguments, the frustration, the hurt, and how it had all begun.

Before he got lost in a blizzard and stuck down in a ditch, Toby's life had been a good one. A nice home, a beautiful mate, and a handful of pups he couldn't help but be proud of. Arrow, a former thief and stray who had chosen to embrace the joys of family life. Angel, a beautiful miniature of her mother Luna who had managed to grow into her name magnificently, and Star, a plain-looking but lively pup on her way to becoming a sled dog. Balthasar, a son who, if not particularly spectacular, was easily contented with a simple life and possessed an eye for danger second to none. And of course, never one to be last or least, Caspar, a brilliant leader of a pup who could figure out a solution to just about any problem faster than you could tell him what it was.

Then there was Melchior – Mel to his siblings. It wasn't that Melchior was bad. He was good at just about everything; his mother's thick fur and powerful build, and his father's keen nose and remarkable stamina gave him the raw talent he needed to be just about anything a dog could be in Nome. In fact the only thing he couldn't seem to accomplish was... accomplishment. His parents tried to motivate him to participate in suitable activities, but nothing seemed to work. Things never really got problematic, though, until Caspar decided to try his leadership skills on his brother.

It all started when Caspar found his brother out on a walk around the town. Melchior's owner, a boy named Jimmy, carried the leash slack in his hand, for Mel rarely strayed or wandered much. Caspar trotted up to him. “Hey bro,” he greeted. “How's it going?”

Mel shrugged. “It's okay.”

Looking up at the sky, Caspar took in a deep breath through his nose, letting it out in a great puff from his mouth. “Mm, beautiful day.”

Mel took a casual sniff. “Not really. There's a blizzard close enough to nail us sometime today.”

“Really?” Caspar took a whiff himself. “You've got some nose, Mel.”

Melchior just rolled his eyes. “Any dog could figure it out, Caspar. It's getting colder, the wind is picking up, and there's a bunch of dark clouds headed this way. That's why Jimmy took me out for a walk now, to get me back inside before the snow hits.”

Caspar shrugged. “Okay, so you're observant. You know, those skills would be really good for...”

“Tracking, I know,” groused Mel.

'Uh-oh,' thought Caspar. 'Never show your hand if you can avoid it when they're in this kind of mood.' “Tracking? Who said anything about tracking? I was thinking maybe a nice game of hide-and-seek.”

“You'd lose,” Mel replied matter-of-factly. “You always came last in that game.” 'About the only time when you were the loser and not me,' he added mentally.

“Yeah, but it's still fun,” Caspar reasoned. “And there really aren't any winners in hide-and-seek, not when there's just two playing.”

Mel shook his head. “No, I don't feel like playing that game.”

Caspar, not one to be discouraged easily, answered back, “What about a race? Come on, they're so much fun.”

Melchior thought about it for a moment. 'It would be fun to show him up and teach him a lesson,' he thought, 'But I'm not going to give him the satisfaction.' “I don't feel like racing,” he replied. “What do you want to race for anyway? You're terrible at it.”

Caspar was quick as a whip with a rebuttal. “Then why are you so dead-set against it? You're good enough at it.”

“I just don't feel like it, okay?!” Mel snarled in his brother's face. “Why don't you just leave me alone?”

'Well,' thought Caspar, deciding that there was nothing left to try but the direct approach, 'He did ask.' “I just wanted to get you doing something... active. I don't think you should just sit around all the time when you could be...”

“Oh, shut up!” Melchior had had it with everyone expecting him to live just like Toby simply because he was so much like him. Coming from the same brother who had always gotten in the way of that, the one who had always stolen their father's interest and respect, it was too much. He leaned towards his brother with his teeth bared, refusing to move when Jim tried to pull him away. “You want me to be just like Dad, right? Ace tracker, sled team hero, Mr. Accomplishment? Well, guess what? I'm not Dad, and I'm sick of everyone trying to make me be him. You think I want someone else telling me how to live my life, Mr. Perfect? Mr. Dad's favorite? Now get out of my face!” And with that he turned away, kicking a pawful of dirt in Caspar's face as a final note.

But Caspar wasn't done. “Mel, what is your- AGH!”

In his anxiety, Caspar had stepped into leash range. Before Melchior knew quite what he was doing, he knocked him over and was lashing out with paws and teeth.

“Mel, cut it out!” shouted Jimmy, trying to pull Mel away. But by now the pup had his teeth dug into Caspar's ear and couldn't be easily removed.

“Ow! Hey!” Caspar tried to push his brother away. “What is your problem?!”

Melchior let go long enough to look his brother in the face, teeth gnashing, eyes burning. “You want to know what my problem is?” he snapped. “My problem is you-oo!”

His rage was cut short as Jim finally gave a hard yank on the leash, lifting him completely off his paws into a backward somersault. By the time he regained his footing, Caspar was back upright and sprinting away.

“Hmph,” snorted Melchior. “And everyone says I got the legs in the family.”

Jimmy hooked two fingers into Mel's collar and forced his head around to look him in the eye. “Bad dog!” he scolded. “Bad dog! You don't fight with other dogs, you understand?!”

Melchior growled, but said nothing. Jimmy whacked him on the nose and started dragging him back home. “Let's see if a night outside teaches you a lesson.”

Caspar, meanwhile, was racing back to his house when he crashed head-on into another dog. “Sorry, mister, I...”

“Caspar?” A tall yellow husky stared down at him.

“Oh, hi Uncle Pete.” The pup had been running so fast he hadn't even seen who he crashed into.

“What the heck happened to you, kid? You look like you just got jumped by a wolf pack.”

Caspar shook his head. “Not a wolf pack. I got in a fight with Melchior.”

“Mel did this to you?” Pete could hardly believe it. “He's about as aggressive as a rabbit. What happened?”

Caspar shrugged. “I just tried to get him to try some tracking, or a race or something, and he attacked me.”

Pete furrowed his brow. “Why would he attack you for that?”

Caspar shrugged. “I don't know. He said something about everyone trying to make him want to be like Dad.”

Pete hesitated for a minute. “I think your dad's going to want to know about this. Come on.”

Caspar followed Pete to Toby's house like a lamb, but as they approached it a feeling of foreboding came over him. “I don't think I should talk to him right now.”

“What?” asked Pete. “Why not?”

“Well, when Mel jumped me he said something about me being Dad's 'favorite.' I think he was mad at me because of all the time Dad used to spend playing with me, and if Dad gets mad at him for attacking me then he'll hate me even more.”

Pete mulled that over. He certainly knew how the jealous mind worked; he'd lived enough of his life consumed with bitterness and hatred. And if Caspar was right about Mel hating him, then the rest of his fear would probably be right on target too. “So what do you want to do?” he asked.

Caspar shrugged. “Maybe I could just go home and act like nothing happened? The scratches might be better by tomorrow.”

Pete scrunched his chin, then nodded. “Okay, maybe you should...”

But that was all he got out before Toby himself poked his head outside. “Caspar? Pete? What are you guys doing here?”

Both exchanged a doomed look. “Uh, we just sort of ran into each other...” Pete began.

“...and thought we would stop by,” finished Caspar. “But if this is a bad time to visit, we could...”

“No, no, come on in... I guess,” Toby cut him off.

With nothing else to do, both of them entered. “You two all set for the-” he stopped cold as he caught a glimpse of Caspar's chewed-up ear. “Good grief! What happened to you?!”

Caspar looked at the floor. “I... hurt myself.”

“I can see that. Come here, let me see it.”

Caspar tried to protest, but Toby managed to get a close look at the ear. “Hurt yourself? Son, I know teeth marks when I see them. Who did this to you?”

A lump began to form in Caspar's throat. But with no alternative, he told his father everything. When the tale was done, Toby just stared at them in disbelief.

“I thought if I didn't tell you, things would just sort of smooth out,” Caspar explained.

Toby stared at his son, then looked at Pete in confusion. “And you just went along with this?”

Pete looked embarrassed. “Well, it seemed like a good idea.”

“Pete, I thought even you would know better.” Then, realizing what had left his mouth, Toby caught himself. “I mean... oh, I shouldn't have said that.” He looked over at Caspar, uncertain of how to go on. “Caspar, can you wait here a minute? I need to talk to Pete alone.”

Caspar's drooping ears and tail made it clear he wasn't happy, but he nodded. “Sure Dad.”

Toby took Pete into the kitchen. “I guess you were trying to look out for Caspar, and it's not that I don't appreciate the thought. But I want the boys to feel like they can talk to me when they have problems, and it doesn't help when you tell them not to.”

“Well, I didn't exactly tell him not to.”

“No, but he looks up to you.” Toby sighed and rubbed a paw between his eyes. “Look, I know you mean well, but if something like this happens again, follow through and make sure they talk to me, okay?”

Pete felt small. “Sorry,” he uttered.

Toby sighed too. The frustration was getting to him, and here he was taking it out on Pete. “I forgive you. And... sorry if I'm tense lately. Things have been... hard.” Turning back to the living room, he remarked, “I just hope I can get things sorted out with my kids.”

He walked over to Caspar, who sat looking confused.

“Dad?” asked the pup in a small voice. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, of course not.” Toby paused and sat. “Well, maybe a little.” He dropped to his stomach to look his son in the eye. “I understand why you didn't want to squeal on Mel, especially after he got so mad at you already. I don't blame you one bit for wanting to keep the peace with your brother, but the next time you have a problem you should come talk to me about it, no matter what. Okay?”

Caspar nodded, wagging his tail for the first time since his fight with Melchior. “Okay, Dad. So, what now?”

Toby rose to his feet. “I think I'd better go have a talk with Melchior. Do you know where he is now?”

Caspar paused to scratch his ear, then stopped with a wince as his claws struck a shallow tooth mark. “Yeah, his human said he'd have to spend the night outside to teach him a lesson.”

Toby nodded. “He'll be in their back yard. Goodnight Caspar. You'd better get along home.”

“Melchior? Melchior.”

The young dog tried to hide behind his doghouse. 'Maybe if he doesn't find me, he'll go away.' he thought.

But he out of all his siblings should have known better. Even if Toby hadn't already known, his nose lead him right to the gate. “Son, we need to talk.”

Mel kept silent. “I know you're behind the doghouse. I can see the chain.”

Reluctantly Mel came out of hiding. “What is it?”

Toby looked at him through the slats of the fence. “You were in a fight with Caspar.” There was nothing accusatory in his tone, but to Melchior it was a slap in the face.

“I don't want to hear it.” Mel turned his head away and flattened his ears.

“Why did you do it?” asked Toby, not about to be cowed into standing for the silent treatment his own son.

Mel's scowl deepened. “He wouldn't leave me alone. Besides, didn't you always say that if someone's not in the mood to play, you can't make them?”

“Yes, I've said that before,” Toby replied. “And if it makes you feel any better, I'll make sure to remind him of it the next time I see him. But right now I'm talking to you about you. What you did was unacceptable, and I-”

“Dad, I get it, okay? No more fighting, no more anything. Nothing I do is good enough for you, I get it. Can you leave me alone already?!”

Toby's ears leaned back and his eyes scrunched. “I don't get this. First you...”

But Mel had retreated into the dog house. Toby tried to stick his head in, but there was no room. “Melchior, come out of there. I'm not finished talking to you.”

Mel planted his paws over his ears. “Well I'm done listening.”

A half-hour's time found Toby at home, staring into the fire with a air of despondency. He barely even uttered a greeting when Luna came in the dog door.

“Is everything alright, dear?” she asked, walking up to him.

Toby shook his head. “No,” he uttered in a voice uncharacteristically low.

She sat at his side, feeling the gloom radiate off of him across the three inch gap. “Pete told me about our boys fighting. I figured you'd come here after talking to Melchior.”

He nodded noncommittally. “He didn't take it well.”

She ran her nose against the side of his neck, trying to comfort him. “You tried.”

“I just don't know what to do,” he admitted, his whole body sinking. “First he won't even try to make something of himself, and now he's getting into fights.”

“Did you ask him why he fought Caspar?”

“Of course I did. He said that nothing he does is good enough for me, but I never said that. I've always done my best to encourage him.” He sat and stared into the flames. “I just don't understand,” he admitted. “He has so much potential, but he won't even try to live up to it.”

Luna sighed. “Maybe you should let him decide what he wants to do with his life.”

“But that's just the point!” he protested, rising to his haunches. “He doesn't do anything. He's just satisfied with sitting around his humans' home doing nothing. It's a waste of his talent and a waste of his life. Is that what you want for our son?”

She shook her head. “You know I don't. But pushing decisions, even good ones, down his throat isn't going to accomplish anything except driving him further away. Just look what happened to Caspar. We need to think of something else.”

“Like what? I've done everything I can think of, so unless you've got some idea you haven't mentioned yet...”

“Toby? Toby!” came a bark from outside

Toby ran to the pet flap and poked his head out. “Dad?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”

Rex stood in the street on a leash, with Chief Scotty behind him on snowshoes looking very impatient. “Urgent business. A child wandered off about two hours ago, there's a blizzard coming, and we need all the dogs we can muster.”

Toby nodded. “Right.” As he climbed out the pet door, he added, “Where's the sled team?”

Rex shook his head. “No time. And if the child headed into a wooded area, there's no telling whether we could maneuver.”

Toby nodded as he joined his dad running down the street with the chief behind them commenting on a “crazy time for a father-son outing.” And that gave him an idea.

“Think there's enough time to stop at one house?” he asked.

Melchior was still locked up in his back yard when Toby arrived. “Melchior, wake up! You're needed!”

Mel raised his head. “Huh? What?”

“There's a girl missing outside of town and a blizzard coming on. Your grandpa and I were about to go look for her, and I'd like you with us.”

Mel put his head back down. “No thanks.”

There was no missing the wounded look on Toby's face. “But son, I...”

“Dad, you and Grandpa are the best trackers in Nome, and I'm locked up. I'd just slow you down.”

“I can get this gate open easy, and Pete taught me how to loosen collars. You could keep up with us.”

Melchior lifted his head just long enough to shake it. “No, Dad. I don't know how to get it across to you, but I'm not interested in tracking or running. Forget it.”

Out in the street, Chief Scotty was getting impatient. “Come on, Rex,” he snapped, yanking at the leash. “There's no time to rally every dog in town.”

“Toby!” barked Rex. “We have to go!”

Toby didn't want to risk a child's life, but neither did he want to see his son's life wasted. “Look, is this all you're going to do with your li-”

“Yes, my life,” snapped Melchior, rising to his feet. He made his way to where Toby stood until they were nose-to-nose through the fence. “I know I've got your nose and Mom's legs and I'm somehow some born tracking machine, but I'm not you, Dad. Tracking is your thing, not mine. Running was your dream, not mine. Now leave me alone!” And with that he stomped back over to his doghouse and dropped to his stomach with the finality of a grand piano.

Pain welled in Toby's eyes. Pain, and anger. None of the pups had ever spoken to him like that before except Angel. “Melchior...” he said one last time.

“Toby!” barked Rex. The chief's tugs on the leash were becoming sharper and more incessant.

Melchior didn't give so much as a glance. “You go be the hero, Dad. I'll hold down the fort. It's what I do best.”

With a deep sigh, Toby withdrew his head and set out to join the search.

They walked for hours. All of them wanted to go faster, but the trail was thin and sometimes escaped them entirely. Often they found places where she had tried and failed to retrace her steps, making it all the harder to guess which way she had gone. They had to go slowly to keep from losing the scent, but every minute the snow on the ground got thicker and the traces became harder to find.

At last, they reached what every tracker dreads: a dead end. “There's got to be a scent here somewhere,” said Toby anxiously, sniffing the ground and then the air.

Rex studied the ground with a defeated expression. “We may have to write this one off as a loss, son. There's at least a foot of snow fallen since she was reported missing, and wherever she is she's almost bound to have frozen by now.”

Toby shook his head. “We have to try. There's still one chance.” And with that he threw back his head and howled, a mingle of deep hound notes and the higher alto of a husky.

Rex at once seized on the idea, but stopped him. “Howling will never do. If she's still in earshot, she'll think we're wolves. Bark.”

So they did, starting in one direction and then turning away from each other until they had barked in a full circle. Then they stopped, ears poised to listen.

The chief seemed to get the idea, and when no call answered he reached inside his parka and pulled out a whistle carved from elk bone. He blew a forceful blast, then cupped his hands to his mouth and bellowed out at the top of his voice, “Lisa! Can you hear me?”

Everyone stood, riveted to their spots. They tried turns of barking, whistling, and shouting. The chief even fired his gun into the air a few times, all to no avail. At last he lowered his head. “Come on you two,” he sighed in defeat. “We'd best get on home.”

Toby turned to leave. Rex started to as well, then stopped abruptly, pulling up short on the leash. “Listen,” he wuffed.

The chief turned to him. “Rex, we've done all we can. We have to get back to Nome.”

Rex ignored his master and turned toward the west, listening intently. Toby joined him, ears forward, straining to hear any trace of sound. For a long, agonizing second, there was nothing. Then the wind blew in their faces and carried with it the slightest bit of sound, like a human voice.

“That must be her!” barked Rex, bolting toward the voice. Toby ran beside him, and the chief, who had Rex's leash wrapped tightly around his wrist, had no choice but to follow as fast as his footwear would allow.

“I knew there had to be a chance!” barked Toby ecstatically.

Rex beamed at him. “Remind... me...” he panted between bounds, “...to put you... in... for a medAAAL-!”

That was all he got out before the ground suddenly vanished from under their feet and left them tumbling headlong into a steep ravine.

After Toby left, Luna had decided to stop in on Caspar and see how he was doing after the fight. She fussed a little over Melchior's injuries, but in the end she satisfied herself that no permanent harm had been done.

“I just don't get him,” Caspar complained. “It's like he hates me or something.”

Luna shook her head. “I think he just felt kind of pressured, and you were the straw that broke the camel's back.”

Caspar tilted his head in befuddlement. “The straw that broke the what?”

“It's an expression. It's like, if you pile enough weight on top of someone, even if it's just a little at a time, eventually it will be too much for them to take. And apparently you were the last little thing that put him over the edge.”

“Oh.” Caspar went from confused to crestfallen. “I didn't mean to do that.”

“Of course you didn't,” she answered softly. “You've got a gift for leadership, so it's only natural that you want to bring out the best in others, especially your own family. Unfortunately you can't lead someone who isn't willing to follow. It's like trying to make someone drink water. You could shove their face in a bowl until they drown, but if they refuse to drink, you won't get anything done – except ticking them off.”

Caspar nodded. “Well, it sure happened that way with Mel. So how do I get someone to want to listen to me?”

She shrugged. “Well, a lot of times you can't. I think Melchior has a much more serious problem, and there's not much you can do about it. It's going to take a lot to convince him to make something of his life.”

“Like what?”

“I don't know. Your father probably stopped by on his way out of town, but if I know that boy, he...”

Caspar's ears shot up. “Dad's out of town? Why... when?”

“Calm down, calm down,” Luna interrupted. “Grandpa Rex stopped by Toby's a while ago on his way out to look for a lost girl. They should be back...” she glanced at the clock on the mantle. “Hmm...”

“What?” asked Caspar.

Luna started. “Oh, just that they should be back soon. You know what a good team they make.”

Caspar nodded, knowing there was more. “Uh-huh...”

Luna didn't want her son to worry, but she now realized that Toby had been gone quite a while, and the weather outside was getting a lot worse. “Well, it's getting late. I'd better get home before Connie gets worried.”

“Yeah, and a detour into the woods is going to eat up time.”

Luna blinked. She had forgotten how perceptive Caspar was getting to be. “Yes, I suppose I should go out and look for him. Just promise me you won't.”

Caspar sat. “I won't, Mom. I know better than to go out into a blizzard.”

She smiled. “Good boy.”

“Besides, I know all about the last time you went out looking for him, and that worked out just fine.”

Luna turned and headed out the pet flap, thanking him for the vote of confidence. She was going to need all she could get.

“Toby? Toby!” Luna wandered deeper and deeper into the woods, hoping, praying for some sign of her mate. But there was nothing. No tracks, and no scent. It was as if he, his father, and the chief had simply vanished without a trace.

She hesitated, weighing her options. She could ask for help, but this time of year more than any other was a dicey time to ask wildlife for anything. Food and fat had to be conserved, and survival often took precedence over charity. Still, she couldn't see that she had a choice. Lifting her muzzle to the skies, she howled a long and loud call of distress.

It seemed an eternity before the call was answered. First one howl, then another, coming nearer. Most if not all were males, by the sound of it. That worried her. Female wolves would be more likely to sympathize with her, whereas the more protective males might consider Toby to be a competitor and a threat to their pack. But they were her only chance.

Soon half a dozen wolves, all lean and hungry, appeared from the woods. As she had guessed, they were male. “You interrupted our hunt,” growled one, skipping the usual greeting and introduction. “What do you want?”

“My name is Luna, daughter of Copper and Taya, great-granddaughter of Aniu,” she said, doing her best to feel no fear. The mention of Aniu's name was usually enough to garner help from any wolves who had met her or knew of her, but no recognition showed in the wolves' eyes. “I'm looking for two dogs and a man who were trying to find a lost child. Have you seen anyone?”

The lead wolf shook his head. “There hasn't been any man-stink in this part of the woods for months, and you're the first dog we've seen this year. Their sleds never pass this way; that's why we settled in these parts.”

Luna nodded, dipping her head low in respect. “Thank you.”

“You should leave the area,” the wolf replied. “We can't have outsiders stirring up the prey.”

Luna nodded. “I understand. I, um...”

There was a moment's pause, then the wolf sighed. “If you're looking for humans, the nearest track is about a mile in that direction.” He pointed a paw back in the direction she had come. “That's all I know.”

She dipped her head again. “Thank you. Good hunting to you.”

The wolf nodded, so stern one might have wondered if he had forgotten how to smile. “And you as well. Forgive us for not joining your search, but we have learned not to get too comfortable around humans.” And with that, he and the others broke away. In seconds, they were lost to sight in the swirling snow.

'Well, that was remarkably unproductive,' she thought. Glancing skyward, she saw that the daylight was fading much too fast for comfort, and the snowfall not fast enough. 'I'll never find them in time,' she thought anxiously. She ran back towards town, following her rapidly-filling tracks. If she couldn't find her mate, she'd have to find someone who could.

Rex rose from the snow, groaning. “I hate blizzards,” he growled.

Toby shook the powder from his fur. “I could do with a little less of the great outdoors myself.”

The chief was far and away the most displeased. He had fallen flat on his face in the snow, and his mood was helped little when he discovered his left snowshoe was broken in two. “Blast,” he snarled, taking off the other. The snow, when he stood up, reached up to his knees, and the dogs were struggling to make headway. Grasping at his whistle again, he blew another blast. “Lisa!” he hollered. “Can you hear me?!”

The wind was not as strong down in the gully, and between gusts he managed to hear a weak cry. “Help!”

“Hold on!” he shouted again. “We're close by! Keep shouting and we'll find you!”

Rex and Toby drove into the snow with renewed vigor, making progress by leaps and bounds. “We're... almost... there!” barked Toby.

Rex gritted his teeth and struggled on. “Good... because I can't... keep this up... much longer.”

“Follow... my tracks,” gasped Toby. “You'll... have an...easier...time.”

Rex gratefully accepted the offer. The chief kept following the dogs until he caught a glimpse of something dark against the snow. “Lisa!” he shouted, rushing forward.

The little girl was literally up to her neck in the snow. “Help...” she pleaded weakly.

The chief scooped her up into his arms like a baby, holding her tight to his chest. “I've got you,” he promised her. “We'll get you home.”

“I'm so co-o-old,” she shivered, the word “cold” drawn out into a groan.

“Here, tuck your hands into your armpits. They'll stay warmer that way.”

There was no reply, just labored breathing followed by a drawn-out sigh.

The chief's eyes grew wide. “God, don't let this happen now,” he begged, lifting a flap on his hat and pressing an ear to her face. After a moment he sighed with relief. “Thank You,” he uttered to the still-snowing skies. Then he made an abrupt turn and raced back through the tracks they had made. “Come on, boys. We've got to get back fast!”

As they followed, Toby turned to look at Rex. “Dad... rookie question.”

“Rex shook his head to clear an accumulation of snow from his face. “What is it?”

As they reached the slope where they had fallen down, Toby asked, “How do we get back up?”

Luna ran up to Melchior's front door. Sure enough, Jimmy had relented in the face of the blizzard and the young dog was now dozing by the fire. “Melchior!” she wuffed, “Come here, quickly!”

With a sense of deja-vu, he lifted his head. “What is it, Mom?” he asked, dreading the answer.

“Your father went out tracking almost two hours ago.”

Mel glanced at the clock. “More like an hour and a half,” he pointed out in his usual contrary manner. “He and grandpa were looking for a little girl.”

Luna ignored Melchior's impertinence. “I know. I'm worried about them.”

Mel let out an overstated sigh. “It hasn't been that long, Mom. Why are you so worked up?”

“You mean besides the fact that there's a blizzard going on out there?” she snapped.

“They track in blizzards all the time.”

She had to admit that much was true. “I know, but I'm still worried about them. Something in my gut tells me they're in trouble.”

Mel knew where this was going. “You could look for them. You're good in the woods.”

“I can't track in that weather. You've got to help me find them.”

The pup sat, his lowered ears and downcast face speaking of abject reluctance. Lifting the chain with one paw, he pointed out, “Mom, I'm no tracker. I never wanted to be one, and I...”

“Now don't give me that,” she cut him off. “You used to want it, even if you don't anymore. But right now we need your skills, and we need them now. Toby's out there somewhere. So are your grandfather and his master, and a little girl besides.”

Melchior fidgeted uneasily. “Isn't there someone else?” he asked. “The police have lots of dogs, and my owners would worry.”

“The professional trackers are already out looking,” she answered. “And people are already worried. Your grandmother and her owner are worried sick; so is Charlie, and so are that girl's parents. If you don't look for them, none of them may ever be found.”

He hung his head. “I don't know if I can do it. Dad always seemed to think that Caspar had more potential than me.”

“You don't know the whole story.” She strode up to him until they were eye-to-eye. “Yes, your father spent a great deal of time with Caspar, but he thought the world of all five of you. He believed that there was something special in store for each one of you, and that when the time was right you would find it. Now if you think your father doesn't care about you, fine. But don't you just sit there and act like that's right. You are better than that, Melchior. I've always believed that, your father believes it, and now it's up to you to prove it.”

Something in her words touched a vulnerable spot in Melchior's spirit, like a spark alighting on a dry place in a pile of slightly moistened kindling. He nodded. It was slow, but it was definitely a nod. “I'll do it,” he said at last. “I'll do it... for Dad.”

As the group of trackers struggled through the blizzard, Rex called ahead to Toby.  "Son, I'm really sorry about making you come out here to help.  If it weren't for me you wouldn't be in this mess."

Toby shook his head.  "You didn't make me come, Dad.  You asked, that was all."

"Yes, but I knew you could never say no, especially to me."

Toby sighed.  "I could.  I got enough practice as a pup."  After a moment's thought, he added, "Maybe that's why I have so much trouble with Melchior."  Reflecting on his son brought tears to his eyes, which quickly froze in the bitter cold.  "I'm telling you, Dad, if I get out of this alive, things are going to be different."

"When, not if!" Rex barked.  "You'll get out of here if I have to drag you on my back."

Toby almost laughed at the way he and his father were able to carry  on like this in the face of disaster.  Somehow he would find a way to connect like that with his son... if he lived long enough to try.

Out on the edge of town, things were getting worse. Under the dropping sun, the warm wind from the south had been replaced by a hard, gusting one from the south. Low-hanging clouds brought a fresh wave of snow. The freezing drifts, saturated by a slight melt from the brief warm wind that afternoon, stung the dogs' paws. Worse, it was hardening at the top into a brittle, icy crust which broke underpaw and pricked at their pads like broken glass. If this kept up, they would soon have bad cuts in their paws to worry about as well.

“I can't smell a thing,” said Luna.

Melchior put his nose to the ground and took a deep draft of air. “I can,” he said. “The little girl's track is gone, but I can still pick up some scent from Dad and Grandpa.”

“Are they far away?”

“I dunno,” he admitted. “The scent's hard to pick up, but that might be because it's getting too old or the snow is burying it.” He sniffed again, then added, “This way.”

“Just a second,” said Luna. “I have an idea.”

Mel watched as she reared up on her hind legs and clawed a small patch of bark from a tree. Then she went around and did the same to the other side.

“Little family trick,” she explained. “This way we'll be able to find our way back no matter how cold the scent gets. And if anyone comes looking for us, they'll know we passed this way.”

Mel nodded his approval. “Good idea.”

On they went, Melchior trailing the scents and Luna stopping to mark trees they passed. At one point she paused and murmured, “Wherever you are, Toby, you'd better hold on. I almost lost you twice, and I'll die if I have to go through it for real.”

“We're getting close, I think,” Melchior said by way of encouragement. “Either I'm warming to this job, or the scent is stronger here.”

“Good!” exclaimed Luna.

Melchior sniffed the ground one more time, then the air several times. After one final deep sniff, he announced, “We're close. Let's go!”

They took off at a run, and in mere minutes they reached the edge of a ravine.

“Toby!” barked Luna.

“Dad!” added Mel.

Toby and Rex were up to their necks in snow, struggling to make headway as the chief followed behind. Huddled in the man's arms was the motionless figure of a child. At the sight of her face, blue despite the fur wrapped around her, Luna's heart sank.

When Toby heard them, he barked a greeting. “Which way are we heading?” he asked. “We haven't been able to climb out of this ditch.”

Luna looked around. “I think you're heading past Nome,” she replied.

Toby growled under his breath. “We've got to do something, or we'll never get her or ourselves back in time. Does it get shallower up ahead?”

Luna looked around. “I have an idea,” she said. “Mel, come with me, quickly. Toby, Rex, stay put and keep the chief there too. This won't take long, I hope.”

“And if it does?” asked Rex.

Luna didn't answer him, at least out loud. But as she turned away into the woods with Mel, she thought, 'Then at least you won't be around to complain about the bad advice I gave you.'

The two of them found a tall sapling and got to work digging away the snow around it. “What are we doing?” asked Mel.

“Well,” explained Luna, “It's a gamble, but this tree looks to be in pretty bad shape. And sometimes when a tree starts to rot, its roots get weak...”

“...which would let us dig it out and use it to pull them up!” finished Mel, digging beside her with renewed vigor.

Their efforts were not in vain. After digging about two feet down and tugging a great deal with their teeth, they managed to tear the root end of the tree out in a sorry-looking lump of dirt and ice. The whole tree was fairly light, not much thicker than what you would expect in a walking stick, but the branches forking off of it made for slow going through the deep snow. At last they managed to return to where Toby, Rex, and the chief stood waiting and shivering.

“Grab this!” barked Mel as he and Luna pushed one end of the tree down. The chief at once saw their plan. “If I ever doubt a dog again,” he muttered, “I hope lightning strikes me.”

He told Rex to go first, and the bloodhound sank his teeth into the wood. With a great deal of grunting, straining, and scrabbling, he was drawn up to the high ground. Next came Toby, and last of all the chief tied a rope around the girl's chest and back under her armpits. Lashing the other end to his own waist, he managed to make it up the embankment while the four dogs towed. By the time they were up, they were all tired and, in spite of the cold, quite warm from exertion. All, that is, but the child.

“Is she alright?” asked Luna.

Toby shook his head. “She's been out here a long time. If nothing else she'll have some bad frostbite.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” asked Mel. “Let's get going.”

“Hellooo...” came a call from some distance off.

The chief responded by pulling out his whistle and blowing three sharp blasts. “Over here!” he shouted back.

An exchange of whistles and shouts led them to one of the search parties, accompanied by a small sled towed by three huskies. “We found the girl,” growled Chief Scotty as soon as they were in sight. “She's in mighty bad shape.”

The man leading the party rushed over to load her on board. “Up, Rex,” commanded the chief after they had finished loading. Rex obediently climbed on next to her to lend what heat he could, and the men piled several fur blankets over them both.

Luna glanced at her mate and son, and couldn't miss the look of pride on Toby's face. 'Exit, stage right.' “I think I'll go with the rescue team,” she remarked. “That girl needs all the warmth she can get.”

Mel tried to climb on too, but she pushed him off. “You can walk, son. If we add any more weight we'll slow the team too much. Now that the blizzard's slacking off, you and Toby should have no time getting back to town on foot.”

The musher also seemed to be thinking about weight. “Are you alright to walk back, chief?”

He nodded. “I'm feeling the chill a bit, but I should be good for an hour or three. Now off with you!”

The musher climbed aboard, snapped the reigns, and was moving before he had time to shout “Mush!”

As the sled team disappeared into the gathering dusk, Toby shivered off a coating of snow. “Well, we'd best follow them. I don't know about you, but I am freezing,”

Melchior agreed, even though his fur was thicker and he hadn't been out as long. He just hoped his dad wouldn't...

“You did a good job, son.”

Rats. “Don't expect me to do it again,” he mumbled.

Toby looked hurt, but he wasn't about to let one rebuff stop him. “I'm very proud of you. You probably saved that girl's life, and mine. Not to mention your grandpa and the-”

“Look, I get it.” This was really the limit. “You're really proud of me because I turned out just like you, and now I'm supposed to be all excited about being like you and follow you into the family business.”

Toby released a breath, sending clouds of vapor into the chilly air. “I wasn't going to say that,” he confessed.

Mel tilted his head at him. “You weren't?”

“No. Well, kind of. Yes, I'm glad you helped when it was important, but I'm okay with it if you don't want to be a tracker.”

You could have knocked Mel flat with a snowflake. “You are?”

Toby nodded. “Yes, I am. I won't lie; I'd like it better if you did decide to become a tracker like me. But if you want to just live a normal life, I can live with that.”

Mel was baffled. “But what about all the stuff you said before? Wasting my potential and everything?”

Toby shrugged. “Well, yes, it would be a waste not to put your nose and your stamina to good use. But waste or not, you're still my son, and I still love you. I'm sorry for everything I ever did or said that made you think you'd have to earn that somehow.”

Mel was moved, but not convinced. “What about Caspar?”

Now Toby was confused. “What about him?”

“Dad, I used to try to please you, but you always liked him more. The only time you ever paid any attention to me was when you wanted me to be a tracker or a sled dog.”

Toby realized with a jolt that it was true. Looking back now, he realized how readily he had gotten caught up in Caspar's enthusiasm and daring, to the disadvantage of the other two boys. “Oh, Melchior, I'm sorry. I never meant to neglect you, any of you. I should have realized this would happen.”

If he was hoping for an, “It's okay, I understand,” he was bound to be disappointed. “Yeah, you should have.”

Toby bit back a remark about the tone his son was using. Under the circumstances, he reasoned, it was only fair. If only he and Luna could have raised these pups one, maybe two at a time. But wishes were wishes, and this was reality. “I shouldn't have made it seem like my attention was something to be won by contest. But what about when I did try to spend time with you?”

Mel shrugged. “I guess the appeal sort of wore off. I used to think you were the greatest and your job was the greatest, but by the time you got around to me I just didn't feel like it anymore.”

Toby thought for a moment. “I guess I've been out of touch. So what do you want to do?”

Mel's ears lifted. He hadn't expected that question. He tilted his head to one side and scratched an ear thoughtfully. “Well, since you brought it up, there's one thing I'd like to know once we get back to town.”

“What's that?”

Melchior stood and continued walking. “How do you keep such a firm grip on the rope when you play tug-of-war? I can never get it to stay in my mouth.”

Inwardly Toby was disappointed. He had been hoping for a question about running or tracking. But that would come or it wouldn't. Besides, every dog needed to know a few indoor sports. “Alright. As soon as we get home and have a good night's sleep, we'll find a rope and practice some first thing in the morning.”

Mel thought about it. “I guess I can wait that long.”

“Great. Now come on, I'll race you home!” With that, he took off with Melchior in hot pursuit.

Copper and Taya belong to redwolf03.

Aniu belongs to Universal Studios.

All other characters are mine.