WAG THE DOG III
WAG THE DOG III
Flea Bit Mutt
I’m the “Go To Man“ around here when everyone else runs away from theVillage for extended stays. I've adopted "Motel 6"'s motto because I always "leave the light on for ya'".
I’ve watched Kids, Vidz, Uncles, Aunts, Don’ts & Cant’s , Boiler plants, House plants and yes-Even shirts and pants.
I’ve also watched people’s Parents and Grandparents, and notably; even a House or two.
You know that you’re a bad steward when a House runs away on you.... darn HUD home kept hiding from me for two days!!
I couldn’t coax the 3 bedroom Run-away Shelter back with enticings of new buckets of paint. Not even new cedar shakes and promises of edging the log corners with a chainsaw and applying a urathane sealant would get the Building to budge from hiding.
I finally got it to come back "home" after threatening a 3.8% Refi, along with not one but TWO 30 yr rollovers and... NO new roofing for next summer’s Village Housing project improvements.
Awweee... You never saw a house so sad. And you never saw me so mad.
I’ve watched Village kittens; "Socks & Mittens", village Sled-dog pups, fishes-Gups!! and even muggy drinking cups.
I’ve even watched a few errant Teens and quite frankly I’d rather watch a fleet of rusty Village boats tied up to docks than endure theSoap Opera drama that entails watching, feeding, entertaining and communicating with a Teen. At least with a boat, what you see is what you get.
I’m a master at watching Snow machines and 4 wheelers and vehicles too. I could open a used car lot with the Vehicles impound each week from local Village drunk drivers.
And some Village Council workers are upset that I'm quietly bringing in enough cash flow from impound fines to keep the Village Council in theBlack, at least I am pulling my weight around here.
By the Way...“Used Cars” theMovie, which came out in 1980’s is theGreatest car movie ever!!!! next to horror flicks "Christine" and "the Car" of course.
Village Life is slow at times and then moves so fast it goes to Plaid, Muslin or even Denim, certainly each day and each Villager is challenging.
But my greatest challenge has come from a little old lady in theVillage that I lovingly call “Granma Jenn” Don't confuse the sound with Ghengis Khan although their personality's are similar in many respects and rumor has it that they even knew each other, so Old Granma Jenn is.
I boast to all my Outside (outside of Alaska) friends that we’ve got the meanest toughest Village Granma’s in the whole world.
And it’s true!!
Because if you take a boat ride from my Village and go up theRiver you’ll discover that with each passing Village and with each passing mile into theHeart of wild Alaska.
You’ll see that theGranma’s & Granpa’s get shorter and shorter, more gnarled looking and are more apt to kick your ass with their Diamond willow canes and Metal walkers just for even existing!!-let alone for insulting them or what have you.
Village life is so backwards in some places they use actual heavy steel walkers not the lightweight sissy aluminum models you see lately.
Granma Jenn is about 88yrs old, BC!! And she’s quite young compared to a few other old Crones that totter and walk about theVillage, she's still a teen-ager.
Granma Jenn called me one time and said that she was going to "leave theVillage for a few days and head into theCity to watch the world famous Iditarod Sledog race, maybe it was the Yukon Quest??."
I'm wasn't sure either which Sled-dog event she mentioned as her excuse to get away, what ever she said just made sense, you see, Granma Jenn is so old that she's earned the right to sneeze or yawn in public and everyone notices AND cares!
When she's cursed out "SShhhh...." people squat. When she's said "Damn it..." Beavers work faster and the Muskrats even help out. 3 decades ago she and two other Granma's got into a fight at Bingo night and every word was "Effin this and that".
The whole region experienced a spike in the birth rate, You get the Picture as to how respected theVillage Elders really are.
As for me keeping track of the Sled-Dog sporting world, well, after living here in Alaska 6yrs 4 months I DON'T CARE anymore about stupid sled dogs and their races.
When Granma Jenn said “few days” she actually meant 2 weeks. Trust me, I know. They lure you in with honey and spring a trap on you these female villagers!!
And I theVillage Idiot (at theTime of course) said pensively, “sure Granma!!”
I should have agreed to hypothermia, blindness, torture and paralysis because that is basically what happened to me during the 4 weeks that Granma J was gone from theVillage.
Ice Cube.
It’s a nice house that Granma Jenn lives in, it was custom built in 1887 then burnt down in 1945, rebuilt in 1947 and repaired after the Big Quake that shook theState in the 1965. As I said earlier, all this happened Before Christ, as Granma is so old. *ahem*....moving on.
Her home was remodeled in 1990 after the episode with theBeaver that everyone thought was DEAD and Granma ended up going ballistic with the .22rifle.
Her drunken grandsons and their girlfriendz found the poor Beaver on the Highway. It looked dead and wasn't messy. They brought it back home for Granma Jenn and took it into her house. She wasn't awake from napping at the time but later when she woke up........
Then another remodeling in 2001 after I chased her Grandaughter Jewels and two other village girls into the bathroom and had to OC / Pepper-spray them out.
I don’t remember the two weeks work I did fumigating and painting the bathroom but everyone says that I did a remarkable job.
“worked himself to sleep each night!!” they said.
“was there early the next morning too!! they said.
I don’t remember because after I started mixing pinesol with bleach to scrub the OC residue off the walls and fixtures, I got a massive headache that for the most part, still hasn’t left me.
One time in theCity I decided to get a Vanilla steamer from an Espresso stand I saw. These Espresso people all jostle and cut each other's throats to get ahead in theBusiness. They have creative names and new exotic flavors.
But I snapped that day when theCute, hot, Busty barrista chimed at me. "Pergo?"
I punched her in the face and drove off. I tell ya', the memories of that bathroom rehab experience STILL hasn't left me.
I’d get sick and pass out from time to time. Which would explain why people would see me there at Granma Jenn's house at any given time back then.
Part of the 2001 remodeling was installing running water into Granma Jenn’s house. She lived so remote on the Other side of theVillage that she was out of the way from Sewer, Power, Water and Phone lines.
After she got running water in her house she was happy. And a Happy Granma is a nice Granma too, at least for awhile.
But still the allure of the Great Outdoors would tug at Granma Jenn’s heart and she’d insist upon someone, Anyone!!! getting her some fresh crystal clear creek water every week so she could drink it.
So during my adventures of Housesitting for Granma Jenn, I had the fortune of restocking her four 30 gallon water containers in her house.
Granma has 5 spruce trees that are laying side by side over the Creek to form a walking bridge across. I see human and animal tracks on either side so the bridge is utilized-presumably by Moose and Bootleggers alike.
But those spruce trees are as old as Granma and they can’t take the weight of Me. I found that out right away. I think that years ago in theMilitary my combat Instructors were Inspired when they threw us Trainees in the COLD ocean for hours at a time because when I fell into the frigid Creek I lost two gloves and my pocket knife.
But Granma Jenn got her drinking water for that week. The price we pay for other people's comfort is worth it though.
Later on I had to go cut a few more trees down with her Chainsaw to replace her broken bridge. "Cop too fat" she shook her head at me.
Blindness.
Granma’s house is very Old yet quite warm inside. The wood burning stove that was fashioned out of a 50 gal oil drum is the center piece of the living room. And like most things dangerous or angry you want to give the fire place a wide berth when it’s roaring hot and turning a deep dark maroon color.
I know this because I melted Granma’s tv set and almost set the Christmas tree ablaze one Holiday season when she asked me to tend theFire in the stove.
How was I to know that it’s not practical to stuff the stove with wood, tinder and small stuff then let it GO?
I thought that was how you built fires but I guess not.
You have to tend to fire like you would soup. You stir it and tend it, add to it and check it now & then. Remove the cooler ashes up front and stir the flames with the fire-poke.
*shrugs*
Apparently no one told me that some chainsaw oil and gas was spilled in the front entry way of Granma’s house and then wiped up with paper towels and these towels were thrown away in the trash.
In theWinter time when the temps dip below zero you have to thaw out small items like chainsaws, frozen bar oil, a cat that gets left outside. You know, small stuff.
And someone brought in Granma Jenn's chainsaw from outside to thaw and then used it to cut wood, then they brought it back inside and filled it up with gas and bar oil, and spilled some in the process and cleaned it up with paper towels and tossed them into the trash.
And in my haste of going into Granma’s house and seeing that the fire stove was cold and unlit, I grabbed some paper towels from the trash can, thrust them into the stove and then piled some wood pieces on top.
My intention was to set the paper and small stuff aflame and the fire would ignite the wood that was above it. The new flames, thus being oxygenate by the front stove door slightly ajar and the chimney damper wide open, would then in turn consume the wood and create heat, setting the overall mood of warmth and comfort for my Granma Jenn etc, etc.
Simple plan but my plans would go awry and up in smoke!!! as it were. See, Granma Jenn’s youngest grandaughter that lives with her likes to paint fingernails and use nail polish remover in great quantities.
Also, rubbing alcohol is used in vast quantity during these “sessions de beaute” hosted by lil Grandaughter JillyAnne.
And when lil’ grandaughter hosts daily visits from her school friends that can be a lot of nail polish and remover that everyone is exposed to.
Hmmm, guess that would explain the dazed look on those girls after they go home.
And before Granma Jenn left theVillage an accident had occured and much polish remover and rubbing alcohol was spilled in the bathroom. It too was cleaned up with paper towels and discarded in the bathroom waste basket before everyone packed up and took off.
Then along comes ME.
I knew I detected a familiar scent when I dumped the clean “dirty” paper towels into the wood burning stove. But I thought no more of it, because this is Granma’s house and every house has it’s own scents and odors and personality.
Women live here, can't you feel the estrogen?!! It’s nothing out of the ordinary to toss out nail polish remover and rubbing alcohol soaked paper towels.
But it is unusual to have the whole collection of papers FLASH UP in your face when you kneel and peek into the fire place to ignite all the small stuff!! *WHUFF!!* I saw a flash of yellow and then white before my eyes.
It was similar to that time when I lit the burn barrel down by theRiver side boat launch area last summer and didn’t know that someone had dumped excess unleaded fuel inside the barrel and tried to burn it without success.
As usual, along came ME later on and decided to burn my trash.
*Flick-flick* went my Bic lighter and *WWHHUUFFF!!!* went theRiver side burn barrel.
Yep, it happened like that only on a smaller and more personal scale, as my face was peering “into theBreech” in a manner of speaking.
TheGod’s hate me I say. And they are amused by my lack of eye brows as well.
Torture.
Did I mention that Granma Jenn had a cat?? No??? Well she’s got 2 of them. Mean critters they are too or what ever they are.
I hear they’re cats but I never see them. I just see cat food bags and cans and cat food dishes set out and a few cat toys strewn about and can only guess that CATS do live here.
In all my years in theVillage I’ve NEVER, EVER seen those cats. But I did hear them growl and did feel their wrath once when I knelt down by the sofa and reached blindly underneath.
*rrrrrRRRRRRRWWWWWWwwww* I heard a low growl and then suddenly felt a soft touch upon my fingers.
I withdrew my hand and saw blood from the scratch marks then the sharp pain hit me, like the pain from a paper cut. I never groped blindly anywhere in Granma’s house either.
Comfortably numb.
What was the Honey that Granma Jenn used to lure me into agreeing to watch her house?? Was it serious, good intel on local bootleggers? Nope.
Did she offer to feed me home cooked meals once every week or promising to hand-sew me a new Beaver cap and pair of bead decorated gloves?? She or an older grandaughter already feed me and my cap is at home in theLodge in case you wanted to know.
Granma makes the best oven backed potatos and meatloaf and she tops it off with a side dish of boiled fruit. Taste the pectin and crunch the sugar in the boiled fruit!! I love it.
She offered to let me take helpings from left over’s in the fridge if I watch her house. So that was why I pensively replied “sure Granma!”
She's old enough to know the way to My heart and thank goodness, it's not through my sternum. Remember I said that to me at least, Granma Jenn & Ghengis Khan sound alike, in fact they fought together you know!
Granma doesn't limp from that Moose stomping 30 yrs ago, nor from that 1/4 mile slide down theMountain when theShale broke loose, and certainly not from when a tree fell on her last year, she limps from an arrow wound suffered long ago when she rode with Ghengis. Now and then I see her rub her leg and a tear wells up in her eye.
That first evening I approached the house carefully. I adjusted my Outer Ballistic Vest as reassurance and felt the small bulge under my right Pec that was the hidden place for at least One Glock pistol. What had me so on-Guard?
I wasn’t afraid of theCats, well. not THAT much, I wasn’t afraid of theIce cold creek either or the occasional meeting with Moose on the Trail.
I was afraid of Granma Jenn's DOGS!!
"Two scoops of food if there's 4 dogs and 3 scoops if there's 6 dogs!" Mommy dearest kept saying to me when ever I had to feed some Village dogs.
It was the same sermon she spoke to me when I was visiting her home Village and feeding her mutts.
I guess I'm just NICE and want the dogs to EAT, and not starve.
That-A-Boy! and Pure-Ina dog food company's would sure love all their customers to have nice masters as I can be when it comes to feeding dogs.
One time I went out to Granma Jenn's house and as I said earlier, I approached with caution. Some bursts of shotgun slugs and emptying a used OC canister downwind brought no results from the surrounding forest. All Clear!!
Nothing to scare me, so I went up to and entered theWood Shed where Granma Jenn keeps her food and supplies.
Animal pelts lined the walls, stuffed bears stood in a corner and glared menacingly at me through marbled eyes. Moose head, sheep head and an old tattered VPSO ballistic vest hung on a Trophy wall. I winced at seeing the old vest.
The Brown bear and Moose eyes yelled at me..."Run!!!! RUN!!!!" but I crept around the Woodshed and marveled at what I saw and more at what was revealed to me about the Little Old lady that EVERYONE in theVillage greatly feared and what most of theWoman hoped to be one day.
5 stand up Maytag freezers quietly hummed and I opened up one freezer, curious as to what Granma Jenn eats. I spotted 2 dozen Pin-tail and Hya Ring ducks in iced slumber on the lower racks and several King Salmon bodies all wrapped and stacked in the remaining space. I ignored the rest of the freezers.
One wall had an assortment of Sled Dog racing harness' and various line and leather cordings. A few plastic and wooden runners hung from nails & hooks and there was even a full-sized dog sled hanging too.
The Sled was very old. It was completey made from Pine, Spruce and Alder trees and the lashings that bound it tightly at the runner joists, the front-end bow and at various points throughout the frame work were of Moose hide and ligament.
Even the sled basket was lined with softened Spruce bark and water proofed with Pine-gum rosin and animal fat. And the covering itself for the basket "bag" was lined with beaver and muskrat fur.
Various old gloves and leather boots were hung up reverently and a 2nd glance at two Tennis rackets revealed them to be wooden Snow-shoes.
I had seen one of these snowshoes in Stress test last year, as one of Granma Jenn's truant grand daughters was recipient of a "scolding" at the hands of Granma Jenn for staying out to late past 7.....................p.m.
Granma Jenn's backhand and forehand were swift enough to make Martina N & Anna K (those two HOT Euro tennis Babes) take notice.
You stepped into history when you stepped into Granma Jenn's woodshed. Old time turn of the Century lever action rifles, 2 blackhawk black-powder muzzle loaders along with a few recent hunting rifles and 3 wooden Recurve bows and a huge box of Factory arrows.
Pots and pans ranging from 5 gallon down to 2gallon capacity lined another wall. Fire pokes and various cooking utensils, ladles and cooking spits.
Small game; rabbit, duck and the obligatory caribou leg and Moose head hung from the ceiling. Man.... and over by the doorway where I had just entered was the sacks of Dog food.
Up here in AK most people soak their dogs food for awhile in water, especially in the Cold Winter, and then feed it.
Per Granma Jenn's instructions to me I scooped up some food into a 3gal bucket and took it into her house and took some kettle water off the fire stove, poured it over the hard kibble and let it soak for 20mins before going off to battle.
7 yrs ago Sparky was just a gleam in his mothers eye, 6yrs and 5 months later Sparky was bumbling around with his siblings inside his mothers Igloo shaped dog house.
Beady black eyes gazed out at the world beyond mothers feet and he wondered what was out there. Often this woman, theMaster-as his mother called Her, would bring food and Sparky would frown at losing the comforting warmth of his mother as she slipped outside to eat.
He huddled in the dark with his siblings and yelped and squealed.
Not long after that more people came and took two of his siblings away.
Soon it was just him and his older sister Saber. One day in early spring he trotted outside the Igloo house and sniffed the air.
A dark shadow past over him and he startled for a moment and looked around. Seeing nothing amiss, he focused on a distant shape and saw that it was theMaster, theOld woman cutting up fish on an outdoor table and 3 smaller humans were helping.
Something hit his neck and tumbled him over.
"ARRffhhh, arrgghh!" he howled in pain and was paralyzed with fear.
His mother quickly dashed out of the Igloo house, her heavy chain "BBRRRRRing! as it dragged over the threshold. An owl had swooped down and clawed into the neck of the young pup.
The 6 other dogs in theYard came to life barking and howling, theOld woman and her grandkids stopped cutting fish and came near to see what the fuss was about.
Sparky was bleeding much from his neck. Mother licked and licked and he tried to settle down but the pain was unbearable.
A slender brown hand reached into theIgloo house and scooped up Sparky. He groaned and whimpered and was moved to silence as he was suddenly nose to nose with theOld woman.
Granma Jenn cleaned the neck of blood and inspected the damage to Sparky's neck, then after cleansing she packed the wounds with foliage herbs and sewed the flesh shut with needle and thread except for the end of the wound to allow it to drain.
He spent 2 days inside the house and was scared of the new sites, the strange odors and all the curious hands that held him. Everyone stayed away from theOld woman and everyone did what she said.
Then theOld one took him back to his mothers house and once again he snuggled up to mother. For it was just him alone, his siblings all given away.
3 yrs later his mother died and theOld woman moved Sparky from his wooden house back to theIgloo house. It smelled of mother and he remembered his siblings. His mother told him of things he didn't quite understand but she always spoke of life beyond the yard. That other humans lived in theVillage and that they too had families and much responsibility. Maybe someday he too would go away and run distance races for his Master, she told him.
He only came out of the house to eat and slept and dreamt young pup dreams. It was always that dream of the day outside when the shadow injured him-he would yelp and wake up.
Every winter he was unleashed to run free for a few minutes as theOld woman prepared a small dog-sled and fitted Sparky into a harness.
It chafed, it was uncomfortable and it had scent of numerous dogs that wore it. Even his mother had worn that harness.
Then theOld woman and her grandkids would walk away from theHouse. Sparky learned that it was his job to pull the small sled that he was tied to.
That first time, something inside him stirred. A feeling of wildness, an urge to run and run and to never stop. He pulled the youngest girls as they sat inside the sled basket.
TheVillage was full of people and other sled-dogs too! Sparky heard many dog voices that first day away from his home.
"Food!! food. Hey, I'm hungry!!" barked a huge black female with white tipped tail and white splashed face. Her piercing blue eyes looked right through his as she barked and pawed at her Masters as they changed her harness. "Food, food".
"Brother!!, Hey, brother!" Sparky heard a familiar voice, then two voices.
He looked over at a large group of sled dogs all tied together, resting in the snow upon fresh straw. It was his two siblings that were taken away from his mother when the Shadow injured his neck.
"I heard the Owl almost got you!" his sister Saber gruffed at him.
She was much bigger and was apparently the lead dog in a team of 15.
"Glad to see you're alive!!"
Sparky's sister continued to vocable to him.
I'm across theVillage and down by the River. Our Master takes us far away to race. Last year was my first time on distance runs. We went to a place that they call Anger and then we ran Home!!
Only it wasn't home, it was some place out where the sun sets. Many days running and we were by the sea, the ice was cold and our Master nnneeevverrr slept! Sparky's sister reverently vocaled to him.
Wow...Sparky marveled.
And theOld woman gets mad when her sleep is disturbed.
Sparky ran the 1-Sled dog race and pulled lil' Grandaughter Jilly around the small Village ball park. They were 2nd place to an older male dog that one of the Granpa's owned. Sparky tried to be friends but the older male dog just growled at him.
Sparky's 2nd race was much longer and luckily he was paired up with his younger brother, who was pulled from the 15 dog team, and they both took Grandaughter Jilly into theForest.
This time the run was a few miles long and the sled tipped over once, but Sparky's sibling was trained to stop and Jilly uprighted the sled and hopped back onto the runners. "Hike-hike" she spoke and they were off again.
"Will I get to run like you and sister??" Sparky vocaled.
"I don't know, the Masters all use us for different things. some of us are race runners and some of us just stay at home chained to a post and only run on special Village events like today." his brother panted.
"I broke my chain a couple of times and theOld woman called me back and tied me up again. Besides, I never really ran far anyway." Sparky told his sibling as they ran, the snow covered forest streaking by, Grandaughter Jilly calling out encouragement to them and soon they were back in theVillage.
"First place in the 3 mile run!" brother howled to all the other dogs nearby.
Each winter and summer was like that for Sparky. If the Masters weren't racing him in the Winter time, they'd be taking him to the Mountains to the hunting and fishing camps.
Life was good, theOld woman cared for Sparky and his other 4 mates in the yard at home and the dogs were included in most of the activities as time allowed.
Then one day Sparky looked outside his Igloo house because he didn't hear anything, yet something approached, the whole forest was alive and it was strange to not hear anything.
It was a large man in Brown, he moved like theOld woman, like he was someone people listened to and feared.
One time this man came to theOld woman's house and did do violence to 3 men after they drank and yelled all night long. Even then, theMan approached quietly and listened and watched before finally stepping into the House, Sparky took notice as well.
From time to time the other Sled dogs would speak to each other.
"My Master is gone two days, feed us!!"
"these ones are fighting again..."
"Earthquake that way, over there"
"hey.. the Caribou are running by again".
"He's here. he's here!!! oh.. that's gotta hurt!"
Sparky noted theMan in brown was serious, not someone to joke around with but he
did protect everyone in theVillage, but now and then theMan in Brown would laugh out loud when talking with theOld woman or her grandkids and everyone was at ease.
Time to have fun with this one-Sparky decided.
"Okay, Tilly, here ya' go", I slopped down 2 scoops of softened dog food into the metal bowl.
Tilly ran herself around the tree she was chained to until she couldn't move, but by then I had just learned to leave her alone. She was smart enough to wrap herself up, she could get herself out. Especially when food was involved.
As I moved onto the next dog 20' away Till came undone from her tree and started eating. She didn't take long to gulp down her food before joining her new pups in her house.
Lil' Grandaughter Jilly got to name that dog Tilly. The name fit, those two were inseparable in the summer months.
Cute little pups she has, smelly, beady eyed, FAT and squirming all the time.
Maybe I'll ask for one from Granma Jenn.
"Otter!!" I called out to the Gray and silver mass of fur that was squatting on the edge of his chain glaring at me. This one was the fighter.
Otter always growled at me and one time nipped my hand when I was scooping out extra food for him. That first summer of feeding these dogs he wore a hole above my right Achilles tendon in my boot nipping at me, darn dog.
"He took your mother and brother to the dump last year, he's a bad human!!" the other village Sled dogs would howl around dinner time.
Otter just bristled when theMan in brown came by. The smell of dog-blood and death on his boots.
I scooped out Otter's food, he stayed at the end of his chain until I left.
He sniffed the food then slowly ate all the while eye-balling me.
Spooks was the friendly one.
He always jumped up and down straining the links on his log chain and one time he wrapped his chain around me and almost knocked me down trying to get at his food.
Granma Jenn said that he was always the friendly one. Even after birth when she inspected his little body he had a smile on his little pink face, and tried to lick her face.
She laughed at that memory and decided that he would be her yard dog. Along with this other one they named Otter because he was small and black like a sea otter just after his birth.
In fact, he lay right where his siblings pushed him and he ended up on his back, paws on his chest. Just like an Otter would when swimming and eating. Granma Jenn had to pick him up and direct him to his mothers milk.
But Spooks, he was the Odd one.
He was jumpy as well. Cringing at this noise, cowaring from strange people.
Spooks seemed an appropriate name for him. Later on he quit cowaring and tried to just appease everyone and everything by wagging his tail and slithering towards you in a submissive gesture.
Quite surprisingly it was Spooks that ate the most food and he even caught his own shrews and voles that dared venture within his reach. The smallest of all the sled dogs in the yard he was the fastest too.
And finally Sparky.
That dog always seemed to watch me. I'd cut wood or prepare their food or just stalk through the forest and check on Granma's house and Sparky was always sitting up outside his Igloo house watching me.
I wondered what was going on inside that small canine head.
He seemed distant at first, waiting till I left his part of the yard to begin eating his food. After that he'd bark and jump up and down just like the other dogs would when they realized that I was there to feed them.
Soon he was barking at me and dodging all around as I reached for his metal food bowl. Once he picked up the bowl and placed it inside his house and then barked and dodged and pawed at me while I had to reach inside and find his bowl.
Because he did tricks like this to me is why I stopped feeding him first and fed Tilly instead. Besides, she now had pups to make milk for and Sparky just had,, well himself.
That following winter I had some nasty falls on the Ice in theVillage. And one time when riding my snow machine I hit a bump and just fell off. Sparky seems to know all of this, just how he found out I'll never know.
I approached him as usual. "you ready to eat!! huh!! mush mush food for you boy!!" Then he dodged to my left, went around me and straightened OUT the chain across my shins, as I had turned to see where he went.
Down I fell face first onto the hard ground, my right hand flattening out a recent pile of poo.
I rolled onto my back for relief (what kind?? I don't know perhaps it was to draw my Glock and shoot the damn mutt??) and my back popped and crackled and my neck joined in.
Stars danced before my eyes, the tree tops pointed smartly to the sky and I was lost in the see of blue for a moment.
A clang of metal chain on a metal dog dish brought me back to reality.
Supine in dog shit in the middle of Alaska.
But my back and neck felt better!!
I sat up and looked at Sparky laying there with closed eyes inside his Igloo house.
The slight smile on his face seemed to say.
"You're welcome"
Damn dogs did it again at least once each Winter after that too. I can see the boredom and mischief on their faces and the comedy relief just before I leave.
Who's theMaster? or more appropriate for this diatribe of mine.
Who's theTail??
Flea Bit Mutt
I’m the “Go To Man“ around here when everyone else runs away from theVillage for extended stays. I've adopted "Motel 6"'s motto because I always "leave the light on for ya'".
I’ve watched Kids, Vidz, Uncles, Aunts, Don’ts & Cant’s , Boiler plants, House plants and yes-Even shirts and pants.
I’ve also watched people’s Parents and Grandparents, and notably; even a House or two.
You know that you’re a bad steward when a House runs away on you.... darn HUD home kept hiding from me for two days!!
I couldn’t coax the 3 bedroom Run-away Shelter back with enticings of new buckets of paint. Not even new cedar shakes and promises of edging the log corners with a chainsaw and applying a urathane sealant would get the Building to budge from hiding.
I finally got it to come back "home" after threatening a 3.8% Refi, along with not one but TWO 30 yr rollovers and... NO new roofing for next summer’s Village Housing project improvements.
Awweee... You never saw a house so sad. And you never saw me so mad.
I’ve watched Village kittens; "Socks & Mittens", village Sled-dog pups, fishes-Gups!! and even muggy drinking cups.
I’ve even watched a few errant Teens and quite frankly I’d rather watch a fleet of rusty Village boats tied up to docks than endure theSoap Opera drama that entails watching, feeding, entertaining and communicating with a Teen. At least with a boat, what you see is what you get.
I’m a master at watching Snow machines and 4 wheelers and vehicles too. I could open a used car lot with the Vehicles impound each week from local Village drunk drivers.
And some Village Council workers are upset that I'm quietly bringing in enough cash flow from impound fines to keep the Village Council in theBlack, at least I am pulling my weight around here.
By the Way...“Used Cars” theMovie, which came out in 1980’s is theGreatest car movie ever!!!! next to horror flicks "Christine" and "the Car" of course.
Village Life is slow at times and then moves so fast it goes to Plaid, Muslin or even Denim, certainly each day and each Villager is challenging.
But my greatest challenge has come from a little old lady in theVillage that I lovingly call “Granma Jenn” Don't confuse the sound with Ghengis Khan although their personality's are similar in many respects and rumor has it that they even knew each other, so Old Granma Jenn is.
I boast to all my Outside (outside of Alaska) friends that we’ve got the meanest toughest Village Granma’s in the whole world.
And it’s true!!
Because if you take a boat ride from my Village and go up theRiver you’ll discover that with each passing Village and with each passing mile into theHeart of wild Alaska.
You’ll see that theGranma’s & Granpa’s get shorter and shorter, more gnarled looking and are more apt to kick your ass with their Diamond willow canes and Metal walkers just for even existing!!-let alone for insulting them or what have you.
Village life is so backwards in some places they use actual heavy steel walkers not the lightweight sissy aluminum models you see lately.
Granma Jenn is about 88yrs old, BC!! And she’s quite young compared to a few other old Crones that totter and walk about theVillage, she's still a teen-ager.
Granma Jenn called me one time and said that she was going to "leave theVillage for a few days and head into theCity to watch the world famous Iditarod Sledog race, maybe it was the Yukon Quest??."
I'm wasn't sure either which Sled-dog event she mentioned as her excuse to get away, what ever she said just made sense, you see, Granma Jenn is so old that she's earned the right to sneeze or yawn in public and everyone notices AND cares!
When she's cursed out "SShhhh...." people squat. When she's said "Damn it..." Beavers work faster and the Muskrats even help out. 3 decades ago she and two other Granma's got into a fight at Bingo night and every word was "Effin this and that".
The whole region experienced a spike in the birth rate, You get the Picture as to how respected theVillage Elders really are.
As for me keeping track of the Sled-Dog sporting world, well, after living here in Alaska 6yrs 4 months I DON'T CARE anymore about stupid sled dogs and their races.
When Granma Jenn said “few days” she actually meant 2 weeks. Trust me, I know. They lure you in with honey and spring a trap on you these female villagers!!
And I theVillage Idiot (at theTime of course) said pensively, “sure Granma!!”
I should have agreed to hypothermia, blindness, torture and paralysis because that is basically what happened to me during the 4 weeks that Granma J was gone from theVillage.
Ice Cube.
It’s a nice house that Granma Jenn lives in, it was custom built in 1887 then burnt down in 1945, rebuilt in 1947 and repaired after the Big Quake that shook theState in the 1965. As I said earlier, all this happened Before Christ, as Granma is so old. *ahem*....moving on.
Her home was remodeled in 1990 after the episode with theBeaver that everyone thought was DEAD and Granma ended up going ballistic with the .22rifle.
Her drunken grandsons and their girlfriendz found the poor Beaver on the Highway. It looked dead and wasn't messy. They brought it back home for Granma Jenn and took it into her house. She wasn't awake from napping at the time but later when she woke up........
Then another remodeling in 2001 after I chased her Grandaughter Jewels and two other village girls into the bathroom and had to OC / Pepper-spray them out.
I don’t remember the two weeks work I did fumigating and painting the bathroom but everyone says that I did a remarkable job.
“worked himself to sleep each night!!” they said.
“was there early the next morning too!! they said.
I don’t remember because after I started mixing pinesol with bleach to scrub the OC residue off the walls and fixtures, I got a massive headache that for the most part, still hasn’t left me.
One time in theCity I decided to get a Vanilla steamer from an Espresso stand I saw. These Espresso people all jostle and cut each other's throats to get ahead in theBusiness. They have creative names and new exotic flavors.
But I snapped that day when theCute, hot, Busty barrista chimed at me. "Pergo?"
I punched her in the face and drove off. I tell ya', the memories of that bathroom rehab experience STILL hasn't left me.
I’d get sick and pass out from time to time. Which would explain why people would see me there at Granma Jenn's house at any given time back then.
Part of the 2001 remodeling was installing running water into Granma Jenn’s house. She lived so remote on the Other side of theVillage that she was out of the way from Sewer, Power, Water and Phone lines.
After she got running water in her house she was happy. And a Happy Granma is a nice Granma too, at least for awhile.
But still the allure of the Great Outdoors would tug at Granma Jenn’s heart and she’d insist upon someone, Anyone!!! getting her some fresh crystal clear creek water every week so she could drink it.
So during my adventures of Housesitting for Granma Jenn, I had the fortune of restocking her four 30 gallon water containers in her house.
Granma has 5 spruce trees that are laying side by side over the Creek to form a walking bridge across. I see human and animal tracks on either side so the bridge is utilized-presumably by Moose and Bootleggers alike.
But those spruce trees are as old as Granma and they can’t take the weight of Me. I found that out right away. I think that years ago in theMilitary my combat Instructors were Inspired when they threw us Trainees in the COLD ocean for hours at a time because when I fell into the frigid Creek I lost two gloves and my pocket knife.
But Granma Jenn got her drinking water for that week. The price we pay for other people's comfort is worth it though.
Later on I had to go cut a few more trees down with her Chainsaw to replace her broken bridge. "Cop too fat" she shook her head at me.
Blindness.
Granma’s house is very Old yet quite warm inside. The wood burning stove that was fashioned out of a 50 gal oil drum is the center piece of the living room. And like most things dangerous or angry you want to give the fire place a wide berth when it’s roaring hot and turning a deep dark maroon color.
I know this because I melted Granma’s tv set and almost set the Christmas tree ablaze one Holiday season when she asked me to tend theFire in the stove.
How was I to know that it’s not practical to stuff the stove with wood, tinder and small stuff then let it GO?
I thought that was how you built fires but I guess not.
You have to tend to fire like you would soup. You stir it and tend it, add to it and check it now & then. Remove the cooler ashes up front and stir the flames with the fire-poke.
*shrugs*
Apparently no one told me that some chainsaw oil and gas was spilled in the front entry way of Granma’s house and then wiped up with paper towels and these towels were thrown away in the trash.
In theWinter time when the temps dip below zero you have to thaw out small items like chainsaws, frozen bar oil, a cat that gets left outside. You know, small stuff.
And someone brought in Granma Jenn's chainsaw from outside to thaw and then used it to cut wood, then they brought it back inside and filled it up with gas and bar oil, and spilled some in the process and cleaned it up with paper towels and tossed them into the trash.
And in my haste of going into Granma’s house and seeing that the fire stove was cold and unlit, I grabbed some paper towels from the trash can, thrust them into the stove and then piled some wood pieces on top.
My intention was to set the paper and small stuff aflame and the fire would ignite the wood that was above it. The new flames, thus being oxygenate by the front stove door slightly ajar and the chimney damper wide open, would then in turn consume the wood and create heat, setting the overall mood of warmth and comfort for my Granma Jenn etc, etc.
Simple plan but my plans would go awry and up in smoke!!! as it were. See, Granma Jenn’s youngest grandaughter that lives with her likes to paint fingernails and use nail polish remover in great quantities.
Also, rubbing alcohol is used in vast quantity during these “sessions de beaute” hosted by lil Grandaughter JillyAnne.
And when lil’ grandaughter hosts daily visits from her school friends that can be a lot of nail polish and remover that everyone is exposed to.
Hmmm, guess that would explain the dazed look on those girls after they go home.
And before Granma Jenn left theVillage an accident had occured and much polish remover and rubbing alcohol was spilled in the bathroom. It too was cleaned up with paper towels and discarded in the bathroom waste basket before everyone packed up and took off.
Then along comes ME.
I knew I detected a familiar scent when I dumped the clean “dirty” paper towels into the wood burning stove. But I thought no more of it, because this is Granma’s house and every house has it’s own scents and odors and personality.
Women live here, can't you feel the estrogen?!! It’s nothing out of the ordinary to toss out nail polish remover and rubbing alcohol soaked paper towels.
But it is unusual to have the whole collection of papers FLASH UP in your face when you kneel and peek into the fire place to ignite all the small stuff!! *WHUFF!!* I saw a flash of yellow and then white before my eyes.
It was similar to that time when I lit the burn barrel down by theRiver side boat launch area last summer and didn’t know that someone had dumped excess unleaded fuel inside the barrel and tried to burn it without success.
As usual, along came ME later on and decided to burn my trash.
*Flick-flick* went my Bic lighter and *WWHHUUFFF!!!* went theRiver side burn barrel.
Yep, it happened like that only on a smaller and more personal scale, as my face was peering “into theBreech” in a manner of speaking.
TheGod’s hate me I say. And they are amused by my lack of eye brows as well.
Torture.
Did I mention that Granma Jenn had a cat?? No??? Well she’s got 2 of them. Mean critters they are too or what ever they are.
I hear they’re cats but I never see them. I just see cat food bags and cans and cat food dishes set out and a few cat toys strewn about and can only guess that CATS do live here.
In all my years in theVillage I’ve NEVER, EVER seen those cats. But I did hear them growl and did feel their wrath once when I knelt down by the sofa and reached blindly underneath.
*rrrrrRRRRRRRWWWWWWwwww* I heard a low growl and then suddenly felt a soft touch upon my fingers.
I withdrew my hand and saw blood from the scratch marks then the sharp pain hit me, like the pain from a paper cut. I never groped blindly anywhere in Granma’s house either.
Comfortably numb.
What was the Honey that Granma Jenn used to lure me into agreeing to watch her house?? Was it serious, good intel on local bootleggers? Nope.
Did she offer to feed me home cooked meals once every week or promising to hand-sew me a new Beaver cap and pair of bead decorated gloves?? She or an older grandaughter already feed me and my cap is at home in theLodge in case you wanted to know.
Granma makes the best oven backed potatos and meatloaf and she tops it off with a side dish of boiled fruit. Taste the pectin and crunch the sugar in the boiled fruit!! I love it.
She offered to let me take helpings from left over’s in the fridge if I watch her house. So that was why I pensively replied “sure Granma!”
She's old enough to know the way to My heart and thank goodness, it's not through my sternum. Remember I said that to me at least, Granma Jenn & Ghengis Khan sound alike, in fact they fought together you know!
Granma doesn't limp from that Moose stomping 30 yrs ago, nor from that 1/4 mile slide down theMountain when theShale broke loose, and certainly not from when a tree fell on her last year, she limps from an arrow wound suffered long ago when she rode with Ghengis. Now and then I see her rub her leg and a tear wells up in her eye.
That first evening I approached the house carefully. I adjusted my Outer Ballistic Vest as reassurance and felt the small bulge under my right Pec that was the hidden place for at least One Glock pistol. What had me so on-Guard?
I wasn’t afraid of theCats, well. not THAT much, I wasn’t afraid of theIce cold creek either or the occasional meeting with Moose on the Trail.
I was afraid of Granma Jenn's DOGS!!
"Two scoops of food if there's 4 dogs and 3 scoops if there's 6 dogs!" Mommy dearest kept saying to me when ever I had to feed some Village dogs.
It was the same sermon she spoke to me when I was visiting her home Village and feeding her mutts.
I guess I'm just NICE and want the dogs to EAT, and not starve.
That-A-Boy! and Pure-Ina dog food company's would sure love all their customers to have nice masters as I can be when it comes to feeding dogs.
One time I went out to Granma Jenn's house and as I said earlier, I approached with caution. Some bursts of shotgun slugs and emptying a used OC canister downwind brought no results from the surrounding forest. All Clear!!
Nothing to scare me, so I went up to and entered theWood Shed where Granma Jenn keeps her food and supplies.
Animal pelts lined the walls, stuffed bears stood in a corner and glared menacingly at me through marbled eyes. Moose head, sheep head and an old tattered VPSO ballistic vest hung on a Trophy wall. I winced at seeing the old vest.
The Brown bear and Moose eyes yelled at me..."Run!!!! RUN!!!!" but I crept around the Woodshed and marveled at what I saw and more at what was revealed to me about the Little Old lady that EVERYONE in theVillage greatly feared and what most of theWoman hoped to be one day.
5 stand up Maytag freezers quietly hummed and I opened up one freezer, curious as to what Granma Jenn eats. I spotted 2 dozen Pin-tail and Hya Ring ducks in iced slumber on the lower racks and several King Salmon bodies all wrapped and stacked in the remaining space. I ignored the rest of the freezers.
One wall had an assortment of Sled Dog racing harness' and various line and leather cordings. A few plastic and wooden runners hung from nails & hooks and there was even a full-sized dog sled hanging too.
The Sled was very old. It was completey made from Pine, Spruce and Alder trees and the lashings that bound it tightly at the runner joists, the front-end bow and at various points throughout the frame work were of Moose hide and ligament.
Even the sled basket was lined with softened Spruce bark and water proofed with Pine-gum rosin and animal fat. And the covering itself for the basket "bag" was lined with beaver and muskrat fur.
Various old gloves and leather boots were hung up reverently and a 2nd glance at two Tennis rackets revealed them to be wooden Snow-shoes.
I had seen one of these snowshoes in Stress test last year, as one of Granma Jenn's truant grand daughters was recipient of a "scolding" at the hands of Granma Jenn for staying out to late past 7.....................p.m.
Granma Jenn's backhand and forehand were swift enough to make Martina N & Anna K (those two HOT Euro tennis Babes) take notice.
You stepped into history when you stepped into Granma Jenn's woodshed. Old time turn of the Century lever action rifles, 2 blackhawk black-powder muzzle loaders along with a few recent hunting rifles and 3 wooden Recurve bows and a huge box of Factory arrows.
Pots and pans ranging from 5 gallon down to 2gallon capacity lined another wall. Fire pokes and various cooking utensils, ladles and cooking spits.
Small game; rabbit, duck and the obligatory caribou leg and Moose head hung from the ceiling. Man.... and over by the doorway where I had just entered was the sacks of Dog food.
Up here in AK most people soak their dogs food for awhile in water, especially in the Cold Winter, and then feed it.
Per Granma Jenn's instructions to me I scooped up some food into a 3gal bucket and took it into her house and took some kettle water off the fire stove, poured it over the hard kibble and let it soak for 20mins before going off to battle.
7 yrs ago Sparky was just a gleam in his mothers eye, 6yrs and 5 months later Sparky was bumbling around with his siblings inside his mothers Igloo shaped dog house.
Beady black eyes gazed out at the world beyond mothers feet and he wondered what was out there. Often this woman, theMaster-as his mother called Her, would bring food and Sparky would frown at losing the comforting warmth of his mother as she slipped outside to eat.
He huddled in the dark with his siblings and yelped and squealed.
Not long after that more people came and took two of his siblings away.
Soon it was just him and his older sister Saber. One day in early spring he trotted outside the Igloo house and sniffed the air.
A dark shadow past over him and he startled for a moment and looked around. Seeing nothing amiss, he focused on a distant shape and saw that it was theMaster, theOld woman cutting up fish on an outdoor table and 3 smaller humans were helping.
Something hit his neck and tumbled him over.
"ARRffhhh, arrgghh!" he howled in pain and was paralyzed with fear.
His mother quickly dashed out of the Igloo house, her heavy chain "BBRRRRRing! as it dragged over the threshold. An owl had swooped down and clawed into the neck of the young pup.
The 6 other dogs in theYard came to life barking and howling, theOld woman and her grandkids stopped cutting fish and came near to see what the fuss was about.
Sparky was bleeding much from his neck. Mother licked and licked and he tried to settle down but the pain was unbearable.
A slender brown hand reached into theIgloo house and scooped up Sparky. He groaned and whimpered and was moved to silence as he was suddenly nose to nose with theOld woman.
Granma Jenn cleaned the neck of blood and inspected the damage to Sparky's neck, then after cleansing she packed the wounds with foliage herbs and sewed the flesh shut with needle and thread except for the end of the wound to allow it to drain.
He spent 2 days inside the house and was scared of the new sites, the strange odors and all the curious hands that held him. Everyone stayed away from theOld woman and everyone did what she said.
Then theOld one took him back to his mothers house and once again he snuggled up to mother. For it was just him alone, his siblings all given away.
3 yrs later his mother died and theOld woman moved Sparky from his wooden house back to theIgloo house. It smelled of mother and he remembered his siblings. His mother told him of things he didn't quite understand but she always spoke of life beyond the yard. That other humans lived in theVillage and that they too had families and much responsibility. Maybe someday he too would go away and run distance races for his Master, she told him.
He only came out of the house to eat and slept and dreamt young pup dreams. It was always that dream of the day outside when the shadow injured him-he would yelp and wake up.
Every winter he was unleashed to run free for a few minutes as theOld woman prepared a small dog-sled and fitted Sparky into a harness.
It chafed, it was uncomfortable and it had scent of numerous dogs that wore it. Even his mother had worn that harness.
Then theOld woman and her grandkids would walk away from theHouse. Sparky learned that it was his job to pull the small sled that he was tied to.
That first time, something inside him stirred. A feeling of wildness, an urge to run and run and to never stop. He pulled the youngest girls as they sat inside the sled basket.
TheVillage was full of people and other sled-dogs too! Sparky heard many dog voices that first day away from his home.
"Food!! food. Hey, I'm hungry!!" barked a huge black female with white tipped tail and white splashed face. Her piercing blue eyes looked right through his as she barked and pawed at her Masters as they changed her harness. "Food, food".
"Brother!!, Hey, brother!" Sparky heard a familiar voice, then two voices.
He looked over at a large group of sled dogs all tied together, resting in the snow upon fresh straw. It was his two siblings that were taken away from his mother when the Shadow injured his neck.
"I heard the Owl almost got you!" his sister Saber gruffed at him.
She was much bigger and was apparently the lead dog in a team of 15.
"Glad to see you're alive!!"
Sparky's sister continued to vocable to him.
I'm across theVillage and down by the River. Our Master takes us far away to race. Last year was my first time on distance runs. We went to a place that they call Anger and then we ran Home!!
Only it wasn't home, it was some place out where the sun sets. Many days running and we were by the sea, the ice was cold and our Master nnneeevverrr slept! Sparky's sister reverently vocaled to him.
Wow...Sparky marveled.
And theOld woman gets mad when her sleep is disturbed.
Sparky ran the 1-Sled dog race and pulled lil' Grandaughter Jilly around the small Village ball park. They were 2nd place to an older male dog that one of the Granpa's owned. Sparky tried to be friends but the older male dog just growled at him.
Sparky's 2nd race was much longer and luckily he was paired up with his younger brother, who was pulled from the 15 dog team, and they both took Grandaughter Jilly into theForest.
This time the run was a few miles long and the sled tipped over once, but Sparky's sibling was trained to stop and Jilly uprighted the sled and hopped back onto the runners. "Hike-hike" she spoke and they were off again.
"Will I get to run like you and sister??" Sparky vocaled.
"I don't know, the Masters all use us for different things. some of us are race runners and some of us just stay at home chained to a post and only run on special Village events like today." his brother panted.
"I broke my chain a couple of times and theOld woman called me back and tied me up again. Besides, I never really ran far anyway." Sparky told his sibling as they ran, the snow covered forest streaking by, Grandaughter Jilly calling out encouragement to them and soon they were back in theVillage.
"First place in the 3 mile run!" brother howled to all the other dogs nearby.
Each winter and summer was like that for Sparky. If the Masters weren't racing him in the Winter time, they'd be taking him to the Mountains to the hunting and fishing camps.
Life was good, theOld woman cared for Sparky and his other 4 mates in the yard at home and the dogs were included in most of the activities as time allowed.
Then one day Sparky looked outside his Igloo house because he didn't hear anything, yet something approached, the whole forest was alive and it was strange to not hear anything.
It was a large man in Brown, he moved like theOld woman, like he was someone people listened to and feared.
One time this man came to theOld woman's house and did do violence to 3 men after they drank and yelled all night long. Even then, theMan approached quietly and listened and watched before finally stepping into the House, Sparky took notice as well.
From time to time the other Sled dogs would speak to each other.
"My Master is gone two days, feed us!!"
"these ones are fighting again..."
"Earthquake that way, over there"
"hey.. the Caribou are running by again".
"He's here. he's here!!! oh.. that's gotta hurt!"
Sparky noted theMan in brown was serious, not someone to joke around with but he
did protect everyone in theVillage, but now and then theMan in Brown would laugh out loud when talking with theOld woman or her grandkids and everyone was at ease.
Time to have fun with this one-Sparky decided.
"Okay, Tilly, here ya' go", I slopped down 2 scoops of softened dog food into the metal bowl.
Tilly ran herself around the tree she was chained to until she couldn't move, but by then I had just learned to leave her alone. She was smart enough to wrap herself up, she could get herself out. Especially when food was involved.
As I moved onto the next dog 20' away Till came undone from her tree and started eating. She didn't take long to gulp down her food before joining her new pups in her house.
Lil' Grandaughter Jilly got to name that dog Tilly. The name fit, those two were inseparable in the summer months.
Cute little pups she has, smelly, beady eyed, FAT and squirming all the time.
Maybe I'll ask for one from Granma Jenn.
"Otter!!" I called out to the Gray and silver mass of fur that was squatting on the edge of his chain glaring at me. This one was the fighter.
Otter always growled at me and one time nipped my hand when I was scooping out extra food for him. That first summer of feeding these dogs he wore a hole above my right Achilles tendon in my boot nipping at me, darn dog.
"He took your mother and brother to the dump last year, he's a bad human!!" the other village Sled dogs would howl around dinner time.
Otter just bristled when theMan in brown came by. The smell of dog-blood and death on his boots.
I scooped out Otter's food, he stayed at the end of his chain until I left.
He sniffed the food then slowly ate all the while eye-balling me.
Spooks was the friendly one.
He always jumped up and down straining the links on his log chain and one time he wrapped his chain around me and almost knocked me down trying to get at his food.
Granma Jenn said that he was always the friendly one. Even after birth when she inspected his little body he had a smile on his little pink face, and tried to lick her face.
She laughed at that memory and decided that he would be her yard dog. Along with this other one they named Otter because he was small and black like a sea otter just after his birth.
In fact, he lay right where his siblings pushed him and he ended up on his back, paws on his chest. Just like an Otter would when swimming and eating. Granma Jenn had to pick him up and direct him to his mothers milk.
But Spooks, he was the Odd one.
He was jumpy as well. Cringing at this noise, cowaring from strange people.
Spooks seemed an appropriate name for him. Later on he quit cowaring and tried to just appease everyone and everything by wagging his tail and slithering towards you in a submissive gesture.
Quite surprisingly it was Spooks that ate the most food and he even caught his own shrews and voles that dared venture within his reach. The smallest of all the sled dogs in the yard he was the fastest too.
And finally Sparky.
That dog always seemed to watch me. I'd cut wood or prepare their food or just stalk through the forest and check on Granma's house and Sparky was always sitting up outside his Igloo house watching me.
I wondered what was going on inside that small canine head.
He seemed distant at first, waiting till I left his part of the yard to begin eating his food. After that he'd bark and jump up and down just like the other dogs would when they realized that I was there to feed them.
Soon he was barking at me and dodging all around as I reached for his metal food bowl. Once he picked up the bowl and placed it inside his house and then barked and dodged and pawed at me while I had to reach inside and find his bowl.
Because he did tricks like this to me is why I stopped feeding him first and fed Tilly instead. Besides, she now had pups to make milk for and Sparky just had,, well himself.
That following winter I had some nasty falls on the Ice in theVillage. And one time when riding my snow machine I hit a bump and just fell off. Sparky seems to know all of this, just how he found out I'll never know.
I approached him as usual. "you ready to eat!! huh!! mush mush food for you boy!!" Then he dodged to my left, went around me and straightened OUT the chain across my shins, as I had turned to see where he went.
Down I fell face first onto the hard ground, my right hand flattening out a recent pile of poo.
I rolled onto my back for relief (what kind?? I don't know perhaps it was to draw my Glock and shoot the damn mutt??) and my back popped and crackled and my neck joined in.
Stars danced before my eyes, the tree tops pointed smartly to the sky and I was lost in the see of blue for a moment.
A clang of metal chain on a metal dog dish brought me back to reality.
Supine in dog shit in the middle of Alaska.
But my back and neck felt better!!
I sat up and looked at Sparky laying there with closed eyes inside his Igloo house.
The slight smile on his face seemed to say.
"You're welcome"
Damn dogs did it again at least once each Winter after that too. I can see the boredom and mischief on their faces and the comedy relief just before I leave.
Who's theMaster? or more appropriate for this diatribe of mine.
Who's theTail??
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