Today the sky cleared from the west, the earth slaked and refreshed by yesterday's rain. Rose hips are bright vermilion against the still-green leaves of the low-growing wild roses. The willows are bright yellow, the aspens half-turned to golden, the narrow leaves of the fireweed blood-red now with wads of cottony fluff spilling from the splitting seed pods. These are the glory days of the Yukon's brief autumn. The next frost will bring leaves off the aspen and willows in a flood, as though the trees were crying torrents of leafy tears over the death of summer. This morning a red squirrel awakened me, sitting at the top of a black spruce right beside my shack, petulantly tossing unripe spruce cones to the ground and chattering incessantly.
This afternoon I threw the mountain bike in the back of my pickup, took Tonya and her daughter Happy in the cab and two of Tonya's sons on drop chains in the canopied cargo bay. I drove up a dirt road that is part of our trail system, parked the truck, got the bike out and ran the two green males, each with a more experienced leader, on a trail that was less familiar to them than the easy run from the kennel yard. The temperature, at 17 Celsius, was high than I liked, but there was a cool breeze and a jug of cool water in the truck; with the dogs out of coat, they could handle the heat for a short run.
The males Maraq and Misha confirmed the promise of their previous runs. For sure I'll have two excellent leaders in these boys. The surprise was 5-year old Happy. Always up till now, Happy has been #2 dog in partnership with Tonya, gracefully supporting her dam's lead, keeping up the pace but letting mama make the hard decisions. I saw no evidence that she had learned directional commands. But today, hooked for a 2 1/2 mile run that was not a familiar route, Happy easily and precisely responded to every single command while barrelling along at a brisk lope, even when the green male tried to pull her off-course to where he thought we should go.
Too bad for me in a way, but I guess that's it for the marvellous combination of Tonya and Happy. I have new leaders that must learn their craft, and Happy has conclusively declared her independence. She is now a fully-made leader, capable of training other leaders in her turn. Yet I wish time could stand still. I would love to run my team forever behind the unsurpassed and elegant duo of Tonya and her daughter. But Tonya is eight and slowing down. Happy is in her prime, ready to be everything her heritage makes her. Time will not stand still for the dog driver. A team's performance is largely defined by its lead dogs. Lead dogs have their infancy, adolescence, their prime and their decline into old age, which follow one another in quick succession. The dog driver may say with Faustus, O lente, lente currite, noctis equi, but the horses of night will not slow down for his beautiful, short-lived companions. The beauty of Seppala Siberian Sleddogs in full flight is heart-rending in its intensity and impermanence. It is a dynamic process, fueled by change itself. And, as Heraclitus said: nothing endures but change.
Posted by jjeffrey at August 23, 2003 09:40 PM