Another World
When I was a kid, my family got a Siberian Husky named Samson. Although he was a purebred, he grew too big to actually show, so he was never more than a great pet. Certainly he never had the chance to dash across an actual tundra; hauling a flying saucer filled with groceries over eight inches of snow in the suburbs of Washington DC was the closest he'd ever come to that. But he did love to run, and of course he adored snow. Thanks to some recent posts from Alaska, I've been thinking about him a lot lately.
I wanted to take this opportunity to thank my good friend, the Tundra PA, for her fascinating and exciting glimpse into the activities in a part of our planet so far removed from my everyday experience that it is truly a completely different world. There is no need for her apologies for the "neglect" of her medical posting while she follows the thrills of Alaskan sled dog racing (mushing) as the annual circuit comes to her little neck of the woods. The pictures; the stories; the people; always the writing -- what a pleasure!
On the off chance you missed any of it, pull up a cup of cocoa and start reading:
- Warming up
- Aily's here
- Race preparations
- K300 Race day
- Bogus Creek 150
- Update
- A lovely K300
- K300 Conclusion
Thank you.
(Edited to add the "Conclusion.")
3 Comments:
That's sweet, Dr. Dino. Funnily enough, I had a Siberian Husky when I was growing up too, but his name was Sampson, not Samson. I actually have a photo of him in my office, and tucked behind the photo, in my mom's handwriting, is this poem(?) which I found among her belongings after her death:
He was longed for.
He was planned for.
Members of his breed were accosted
And their owners questioned.
Newspaper ads were studied and a Siberian Husky "Maven" was recruited.
But he had to have blue eyes and that, in the end, dictated our choice.
If you're ever in my neck of the woods, I'll have to show you this.
--A fan from Kensington, MD
Wow, #1 Dino, I am so honored and touched by your post. I was beginning to feel a little glum that this sport I love so passionately was receiving a tepid response in my comments. You have reminded me that lack of comments does not necessarily mean that people are not enjoying the posts. Thanks so much for your very kind words.
Kensington: Actually, the spelling (or mis-) was intentional, as his call name, Sam, had been chosen first. My parents' sense of humor -- in animal naming, at any rate -- consisted of playing with spelling or pronunciation; ie, a cat named "Scotch" followed by one named Djinn (a la Aladin's friend) which of course always seemed like its alcoholic homonym when spoken aloud. I'm not sure my sibs ever realized that she wasn't "Gin." I wish there were some way the dog's original documentation could be located, which would back me up on this. I'm virtually certain it would show his AKC name as "Menehune's Samson."
TPA: You have to realize that it's hard to comment in the middle of events unfolding. Although I'm quite certain there are many, many more folks like me who loved every word but didn't feel compelled to add any of their own.
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