Anna shook her head. They were all barking and jumping up and down before they took off. It looked to me like they were having fun.
I lay down and rested my chin on the bottom of the doorway and stared at the empty trail. Hmph! Didn’t look like fun to me.
Chapter Two
When we were six weeks old Pam stuffed Anna, Roald, and me inside a box and put it on the front seat of her ancient pickup truck. The engine came to life with a loud roar and off we went. Eventually we came to a big building and Pam hauled us inside. There I met a human named Angela who was something called a veterinarian.
Angela was very smart and commented on how beautiful I was and then she stuck me with a needle! Ouch! “Sorry about that, Sojo, but that was your first vaccination and now you won’t get sick,” she said. Then she gave me a dog biscuit.
I didn’t know it then but my relationship with Angela would last for my entire life.
In those days our lives were carefree and we were allowed to do pretty much as we pleased. Most mornings we played around the house. Sometimes Roald tried to steal my lunch and then he’d either go play by himself or go inside the house to nap with Mom. Anna and I spent our afternoons roaming farther and farther into the dog lot.
Pam is a very meticulous person and the dog lot was well organized. All the houses were in a big circle, so it was easy to find our way around without getting lost. Each dog had their own square-shaped house made of plywood and filled with clean straw and all the houses faced the center of the circle so everybody could see one another. Each dog was tethered to their house by a lightweight, ten-foot chain. At first it seemed cruel that they were all chained, but I would later learn that there were laws about dogs roaming loose. Keeping them home meant they wouldn’t be snatched by the dog police and sent to a place called the pound where terrible things might happen.
All the dogs were quite friendly and, by the time we were eight weeks old, we had gotten to know what everybody smelled like.
Pam lived in a log cabin way over on the other side of the dog lot from us and behind her house was a tall, green cylinder. We were just two months old and had never explored very far from home, but one day we decided to investigate the cylinder. I was feeling a little nervous but Anna wanted to go and Roald decided to tag along, so right after lunch while Mom was napping, the three of us set out on an expedition. When we reached the cylinder we discovered it was giving off some very interesting odors and we became very curious.
Let’s try to turn it over and see what’s in there, said Anna with a sly grin.
Do you think we should? I asked hesitantly.
Anna leaped in the air and kicked the cylinder with her front feet. Look, it wobbled! If we all jump up and kick at the same time I think we can knock it over, said Anna, her eyes wide with excitement.
We all jumped up at the same time and kicked but the giant cylinder hardly moved. Over and over we tried but it wouldn’t budge.
I know! said Anna. Let’s all jump one more time only this time let’s all kick on the same side.
We lined up side by side and Anna cried, Jump!
We jumped and kicked all at the same time. The cylinder rocked back and forth, back and forth. But still it wouldn’t topple over.
One more time! yelled Anna.
This time we kicked as hard as we could. The cylinder wobbled and teetered on edge as though deciding what to do. We held our breath as it sloooowly leaned farther and farther to one side. Finally … it gave up and toppled over with a great klinky, mushy sound as it hit the ground. The lid popped off and out poured all this wonderful, delicious, smelly stuff. Slimy bits of vegetables, empty cans, gooey pieces of paper, and even some bones!
Yum, yum! Feast time! But just as my teeth were closing in on one of those bones, Pam came running around the corner of her house, waving her arms.
“Get out of there!” she yelled.
Quick, run for your lives! I yelled. We tore off across the dog lot lickety-split and jumped inside our house.
After I caught my breath, I told my mom what happened and said, I think Pam wanted all that stuff for herself because she chased us away before we could eat any of it.
Oh, my, said Mom, shaking her head in disapproval. You got into the garbage. That is something no dog should ever do. Humans do not like sharing their garbage. You must promise me that you will leave all that garbage for Pam and never do that again.
For the next couple of days we stayed close to home and kept out of trouble. Every morning Anna, Roald, and I sat in the doorway of our house and watched Pam harness the dogs and sled off down the trail. I had to admit the dogs did look excited and maybe they did enjoy it. But I was beginning to see that being a sled dog was more complicated than I first realized.
Anna, do you notice they all know how to step into their harness? I asked with my head cocked to one side.
Yes, and they’re very quick about it, Anna said with a quick nod.
I cocked my head farther and said, I think each dog has a particular place in the team and they seem to know exactly what to do. How do you suppose they know all that?
I don’t know! Then with an upward jerk of her head Anna said the most amazing thing: But I’m going to figure it out and someday I’m going to be a lead dog.
I stared at Anna in disbelief. A lead dog? You can’t be serious! That’s the hardest, most dangerous job of all. You have to know what you’re doing and you have to stay ahead of the entire team so you don’t get run over. I could never do that.
Oh, Sojo, you’re such a fraidy-cat, teased Anna.
Am not.
Are too.
I felt very sad that day. I remember thinking maybe Anna was right. Maybe I was a fraidy-cat. I kept trying to think of something I could do that wasn’t so hard or so scary. That’s when I remembered the day Pam’s friend Joyce came visiting. I remembered how she said I was beautiful enough to be a show dog.
I’ve got to find out what that means because that’s what I’m going to be someday. I’m going to be a show dog!
Chapter Three
One bright sunny afternoon Pam walked up to our doghouse with three harnesses in her hand. She leaned forward, put her hands on her knees, and said in a chipper voice, “Guess what? You puppies are twelve weeks old and it’s time to start sled dog school.”
Anna wagged her tail, Roald ran inside our house and hid behind Mom, and I nearly fainted.
Pam said, “The first thing you have to learn is how to get into a harness. Which one of you is brave enough to go first?”
Anna leaped toward Pam.
No, Anna, don’t go. This is puppy abuse! I shouted.
Anna paid no attention to me as Pam helped her slip into the little harness. Anna jumped up and down and ran around in circles, showing off. She made it look fun so I decided I’d give it a try.
Pam took hold of my collar and slipped the harness over my head. Watch the ears! She gently eased both my front legs through the loops. The harness was red and, against my black coat, I must admit I looked rather stunning. For once Roald came out of the doghouse when Pam called him, and when he got his harness on, the three of us ran all over the dog lot showing off for the big dogs and feeling quite proud of ourselves.
I ran over to my dad. Dad!