Being There.

Before the sledders.

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There was a time when we shared our life with just one dog. Chance, a truly loyal friend and companion.

The origins of Being There Kennel. Chance (aka Chauncey Gardiner). My old bud. 15 years old in this shot, shortly before his death.
b. July 11, 1984; d. June 28, 1999. Husky-Collie-Shepherd mix.

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(Friday Flashback)
Before there was BeingThere there was Chauncey Gardiner.
He was my pack dog and constant companion and then I decided he needed helpers. And 1990 became a pivotal year.

Here at Robertson River in Spring 1989. On the slide frame I had written, "Best Dog!"

Kodachrome 64 transparency. Minolta SRT camera.
Auto Color in APS, for better or worse. Harsh light and shadow, but decided to post anyway.

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Chance hauling a little pulka sled of supplies up the Robertson River, Alaska with Lenore in tow.
Spring 1989.

Before there was BeingThere, before I ever thought of running and raising sled dogs, there was Chance. A Collie-Husky-Shepherd mutt, intelligent, hard-working, extremely loyal; best dog ever.

Fujichrome transparency, probably Sensia 100.
Epson film scan.

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at Happy, Alaska.
Flashback Friday.
ca. mid-late 1980s.

Mush was not really our dog, but he did live with us off and on for a while. We met while Chance was still a puppy and Mush's person at the time was my cabinmate. We shared a dry cabin, no phone, no electric and about a tenth of a mile off the one lane, pothole filled, dead end dirt road. Judy had rescued him from a remote town, Kotzebue, above the Arctic Circle. People often talk about rescuing dogs, but Mush and Judy’s story is unique and a very literal rescue.

Judy was living in “Kotz” doing, if I’m not mistaken, graduate work. I’m sure she had seen Mush before, but one day while he was harnessed and in team, she heard yelling; his owner pulled a gun and was about to shoot him dead. Evidently Mush was a fighter and was not receptive to being told what to do by this person. This method of training, shooting a dog in harness while his teammates look on was meant as a lesson to the other dogs that they better behave. Truly misguided and cruel – “training” through fear and intimidation. But things were different in the bush and some people could not afford to keep a dog that not only did not perform, but also harmed other dogs in the team.

Judy intervened, “don’t shoot that dog!” And the person reluctantly acquiesced, warned her about his behavior, and said, “get him the hell out of here.” (or something to that effect).
Judy returned to Fairbanks for University studies (where we met and became roommates), of course she loved that dog with all her heart, with all her being, and he no doubt loved her as well, realizing maybe not that she saved his life, but that she got him away from a bad person.

It was said that Mush was ½ wolf. I usually take such claims with a grain of salt, but with Mush I believed it. Huskies can be very aloof, and arguably most or all of them can be traced to some wolf heritage, but Mush was the most aloof dog that I have ever experienced. Also, he did not like men, any wonder. But he tolerated me and eventually we became as close as he would allow. Later Lenore came around and she fell for him and he preferred to live with her in her little cabin. He provided her security and comfort. But I jumped ahead a bit.

Judy and Mush moved in when Chance was still a young pup, he was not aggressive with the rambunctious puppy, but as a matter of training and demonstrating who was boss, he would sit with seemingly all his weight (he was big) on Chance the pup. Chance learned. In his time with me Mush was a strong freight dog, helping haul firewood locally and supplies out to my remote cabin site. I even named a stretch of trail after him, “Mush’s Misery,” as it was a long uphill slog and he would put his head down, lean into his harness and march ahead without complaint.

Later Mush disappeared and some weeks or months later I was surprised to see him at a friends cabin. This was not near where Lenore or I had lived. The friend was surprised that I knew him, as surprised as I was to find him living with her. She said he just appeared on her porch one day and stayed, as if he lived there. She was involved in a separation and felt alone and vulnerable too in that place. She was convinced that Mush sensed this, and intentionally appeared to protect her and provide comfort. They had not met before. I didn’t really feel like it was my choice, so he stayed. Eventually he disappeared from her too, and that’s all we know.

Happy Station, 1916

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