TROLL -- by Sarah Mann

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DOB: July 23, 2016  Mr.Paws (Bacon) x Chanel (King)  Magical Forest Creatures litter

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Among his siblings, he was the fuzziest, the gentlest, the slowest, and the fattest. A little ball of brown wool with over-sized ears, big clumsy paws, and cartoon eyebrows that looked like they’d been drawn on with magic marker. His name was Troll and, simply put, he was perhaps the most adorable creature I had ever seen.


I met Troll and his litter-mates, the Magical Forest Creatures, in the fall of 2016. They were eight weeks old, living together in the big puppy pen. They’d never worn collars, they didn't know their names yet, and still slept, the five of them, piled together in one dog house. I was their primary caregiver, charged with everything from daily feeding and upkeep, to vaccinations, exercise, and training. Every day, with the help of my trusty airedale Mattie, I’d release the little hounds to explore the world outside the kennel. It was on these puppy walks that our bond was forged; The seven of us, roaming the forests and hills surrounding our Denali homestead, becoming an indomitable wolf pack.


On our walks, most pups dedicated themselves to racing, roughhousing, and general mischief making. They’d pause with me occasionally, just long enough for a quick pet, before darting away with wild abandon. But Troll was different. He would come find me, again and again, deliberately seeking me out. He’d throw himself at my feet and expose his little blueberry-stained tummy for a belly rub, or leap into my arms, wrap his paws around my shoulders, and cover me in puppy-breath kisses for as long as I’d let him. He rarely ventured out of my sight. At times, he’d choose to simply sit beside me on the forest floor, while his siblings ran circles around us. We’d play hide and seek in the trees, and when he saw me, he’d be overcome with excitement. His whole body exuded a radiant joy that he could scarcely contain, and he’d blurt out the silliest and sweetest GROWLY howls. “RrroooROO!!”

 

Every time I heard that sound, my heart would burst with so much love and happiness! No one can truly “speak” dog, but I think anyone who heard him would know exactly what that little troll puppy was trying to say. “Sarah!! My favorite person! I’m so excited to see you, I LOVE YOU! Please pet me! I love you sooo much.” 

 

It’s a truly special experience when a dog chooses you as his person. It’s not something that can be rationally explained, but when you feel it, it’s undeniable. You know it in your soul. And Troll would always choose me. Again and again, from day one. 


I have the most vivid memory of him, sprinting through the trees one golden fall afternoon. As he ran towards me, at the exact same moment, we greeted each other with perfectly synchronized “Rooroos!!”  I knelt down, he leaped into my arms, and we collapsed in a pile of pure puppy love. In that instant, I knew beyond knowing that this dog and I were just meant to be. My soul dog. My soul Troll. ♡


Kristin once told me, “There’s nothing like raising your first litter.” And it’s true. I can’t imagine a relationship as special as the one I had with those magical forest creatures. We were a family, a pack. We learned the land together, exploring and expanding in that great unknown. A new life for me, in a place I’d always dreamed of; A brand new world for them, full of wonders yet untold.


It was a truly Alaskan upbringing. They cut their teeth on bleached antlers of caribou; Tested their speed on the bush plane airstrip, their agility over tangled courses of tundra and spruce. They rested on beds of sphagnum moss, feasted twice daily on salmon and raw meat. 

We learned to read the passing signs of our neighbors; crossbill, goshawk, snowshoe hare and moose. Always there were the whiskey-jacks and Ravens, laughing, following. Like those wild birds, the pups were free to explore on their own terms. When they wandered too far, I’d sing them to back me through the trees. 


The unbridled joy of a dog running free, at home in himself and content with all the world, is a beautiful and transcendent thing to witness. In those primeval forests with my pack, I felt total connection and harmony with the universe. Magic, simple as that. 

 

Before I knew it, the weeks turned to months, and Troll transformed; From a fluffy little fatboy, into a handsome young gentleman. He traded his wooly puppy fuzz for a plush wolverine-like coat, so dense and luxurious that his harness would leave perfect criss-cross imprints in his fur when I removed it. His eyes changed color, from mossy hazel to shades of amber and gold, and his ears perked up, almost completely. The very tips still flopped over, and watching them bobble around from the back of a sled endlessly entertained me. I’ve never had ambitions to run a race like Iditarod, but I’d be content to watch those funny little ears dance for 1000 miles and more.


Raising Troll from a pup, and training him from his very first run in harness, was a remarkable experience. It filled me with pride at how much we both had grown since the rainy October day when we first met. He was becoming a capable little cruiser, exploring the frozen wilds of interior Alaska with expansive enthusiasm and confidence. I was a woman living out my childhood dream, growing stronger, braver, and wiser with every dog run. Together, we traveled. Over glowing blue overflow ice, under shadows of towering mountains. We ran in the tracks of caribou and wolves. We ran in the night, with owl calling our names. We ran with the red rising sun. We wandered labyrinths of ghostly trees, explored abandoned cabins, and basked in the iridescent glow of countless blue hours, golden hours, twilights and auroras. 


Living with Troll was, without a doubt, the greatest part of my time in Alaska. He brought the purest love and happiness into my life. He lifted me up when I was at my lowest. My life in Denali was, in many ways, a dream come true. It was also...challenging. Months of bitter cold, constant darkness, and unrelenting labor left me physically and emotionally exhausted. Not to mention, a tenuous romance that eventually broke both my heart and mind. Alaska, harsh as she is beautiful, taught me much, but some of those lessons cut deep.

Yet, even in my worst moments, I could always depend on Troll to raise my spirits. His golden heart was a beacon of warmth and light in that long winter. My little Sun. He always seemed to know just what I needed, whether it was a good laugh, or a fluffy shoulder to cry on. I could come to him miserable, totally depleted, and within a few minutes I’d be smiling again. The love restored, cup runneth over. That was, and is, his magic.


Time passed. Winter, which had at times seemed endless, slowly loosened its grip on the land and on my psyche. Spring came, and the litter was split. Troll, Pixie, and Fairy moved down to Big Lake with Kristin. I continued working in Denali, visiting as often as possible through the following months. Troll and I made wonderful memories in the lush summer world of Bacon’s Acres. We spent sun-drenched afternoons running barefoot through spongey muskegs, finding hidden treasures in the cottongrass; Sandhill Crane feathers and tiny chorus frogs, jewel-bright fungi, otherworldly wildflowers. I swam through a maze of water lilies with the red-throated loons, while Troll stood watch from shore. My ever-vigilant guardian. We ended those days under a never-setting sun, lulled by mysterious songs of the boreal night birds.

 

My greatest privilege in Alaska, and one of the most beautiful experiences of my whole life, was raising “the Magical Forest Creatures.” They gave me wisdom, endless laughter, unconditional love, and adventures I will forever cherish. They will always be with me, that mystical little wolf pack, roaming my heart and memory. I still miss them and think of them every day, especially Troll. I am so grateful that he is spending his career with Kristin, a musher whose ethics and commitment to dog care I deeply respect, and someone who understands just how much he means to me. While life has brought me back “outside” to the Lower 48, I eagerly await the day when Troll and I are reunited, and I get to hear his happy howls once again. For now, I enjoy cheering the team on from afar, keeping up with their lives through Kristin’s updates. And, when the day comes that he chooses the life of a pampered sled-pet over his working dog career, there will be a place by my side ready and waiting for a Troll :)


Zephyr -- by Tara Cicatello

Born May 1, 2016; Zig x Bailey (both King dogs); part of the Weather Systems litter

It was love at first sight.

I met Zeph when she was four months old. While most of the dogs were not yet at our winter location, Lil’ Bear and Zephyr arrived early. There were two pens with four puppies each in them, most being Zephyr’s siblings. I put her in the first pen, but all the other pups banded together and started bullying her. She was pretty good at defending herself, but even after several minutes and my attempts and getting them all to play, they still were after her.

I moved her to the second pen, and the same thing happened- the ‘everyone gang up on the new girl’ mentality was clear. I took her out of that pen, and not really knowing what to do, decided to take her home for the night.

It was a most joyous eve, settling in to a new place with this little spunky puppy whom I just met. She was so full of happy and curiosity and life; I knew we were destined to be best pals.

She came home with me most evenings until she upgraded to the adult dog yard with her very own dog house. Her house was conveniently located right in line with my walking path home, so we got into a nightly routine: letting her off her tether,  running around the apartment complex a few times, flying up the stairs, waiting excitedly for me to let her in, and barreling inside for fun and love. This pattern held true for a handful of regulars who joined me for nightly snuggles, but the others would take turns. Zephyr was constant.

If I didn’t bring her in for a night or more to give others their space, she would whine and howl and make sure I knew I was forgetting her. The adult dogs didn’t always get along with her- she was rambunctious and always wanted to play. She would storm in and lick any dog that was joining us all over the face, whether they liked it or not. “Kill them with kisses!” I would laugh, as she would continuously lick them on the lips- they did NOT like that! They would growl at her and give her looks, but she would mercilessly continue giving them all sorts of love. 

And so our love affair blossomed that winter. Though I wasn’t training her myself (she was running with the Pup Squad all season), our bond was obvious. And she was doing awesome! Reports were that she was becoming a great little leader and did very well in any position with most of the team. My heart was booming with pride.

The following winter (2017-18) she was a yearling, and incorporated into the adult training program. I spent every day with and amongst the team, including Zephyr. She still spent most nights with me, but I was watchful of making her too spoiled.

After training runs I would let her off the line, and she would run to the house, harness still on, waiting to be let in. Was I training her, or she training me?!

She sat out of my one mid-distance race of the year due to mild soreness, but was ready for go-time come Iditarod. And Zephyr was a little all-star, as I knew she would be.

There was a time on our last run that I felt like our race was close to its end. I knew we were trailing and had been warned. It was a gorgeous but too warm day- bluebird skies and sun shining brightly as we trekked our way to Unalakleet. I thought I was miles behind the next musher (though I found out later I was actually ahead!), and had a moment on the trail with the dogs, thanking them for getting us this far. We all were feeling sluggish with the sun, but Zephyr suddenly wiggled her body with excitement. I had her in team, but she clearly wanted to be up front, so I put her in lead.

It was truly a magical moment, as she gave it her all, rallying the team forward. I was beyond myself with emotion and pride. Little Zephyr honey knew, we all could feel it, and by golly we weren’t going down without a fight. It was one of those incredible ‘mom’ moments, absolutely beaming with pride at my team, my girl (assuming that’s what it feels like if you’re a mom!). We knew each other so well, day and night both training and having fun; she could feel my sadness, and in true Zephyr fashion, made everything a bit brighter.

Zephyr honey is the epitome of joy. She is a true little leader that rises to the occasion when needed. She's spunky and playful and can be sassy when she wants to be. She is easy-going and gets along with almost everyone. From wheel to team to swing to lead, she cooperates wherever she is. I have had the privilege of watching her grow from a goofy pup into an even goofier adult, and I am so very thankful for that <3 

By: Tara Cicatello

Felon - Our team’s first main leader

Where would we be without him?!  Felon has raced in lead and finished every race we have participated in: Aurora 50/50, Alaska Excursions 120, Knik 200, Copper Basin 300, Northern Lights 300, Kusko 300, T200 and Kobuk 440… as well as Iditarod 2016 & 2107. After Iditarod 2017, he retired at the age of nearly 10 years old.

In January 2015, he finished 3x300 mile races in 3 weekends with us: Copper Basin 300, Kusko 300, Northern Lights 300. He's simply an amazing athlete.  And, he loves human affection.   I just love this quirky boy!

Felon was born in Denali, AK at Husky Homestead (Berkeley x Solomon) , and is part of the Crimes & Misdemeanors litter.  This litter was originally split between Jeff King and Jake Berkowitz.  I bought Felon from Jake in the fall of 2012.   I had a fantastic opportunity to run the Kobuk 440 in the spring of 2015 with Felon, Menace, Suspect and Burglar all in my team!  Menace, Suspect and Burglar were then residing at Husky Homestead.

Felon continues to live at Bacon’s Acres. He’s a great cheerleader for the team, and enjoys going on <10 mile runs with young dogs.

Because of Felon’s great attitude and effort, he was chosen to father a litter of our pups. He’s the father of Tricky Mini, Molly, Paunch and Mr. Paws. And, he’s the grandfather of Fairy, Pixie and Troll. These are many of our current leaders for our team.

TRICKY - this girl's best boy

Tricky argued he should have been the FIRST dog to be introduced because he was the FIRST dog in my Alaska life... the dog that helped lead my life in a new direction.  Tricky was one of four puppies born March 9, 2009 in Girdwood.  It was the first litter of puppies I ever held. From the time he was very young, he stared directly in my eyes. I took that to mean, "he picked me". When he was about 11 months old, I received a phone call saying the kennel was getting rid of "my" puppy.  I drove down and picked up my puppy immediately. He was thin, stunk and had never been in a house.  He refused to pass through doorways or walk up the stairs, so I carried him up the stairs and straight into the shower.  I learned quickly, if we were going to be good buddies, it would require daily exercise (otherwise, he paced around the house... click, click, click, click, click).  

The day after I brought him home, I bought him a wooden dog house and a tie out.  Don't all sled dogs sleep outside in dog houses?  Well, he stood next to his dog house and stared at the house for hours.  Of course, I gave in... His dog house sign, "TRICKY", will forever live above our cabin door. 

Tricky has adapted to his many roles at Bacon' Acres: Kristin's Canine Companion, Therapy Dog, Puppy Trainer, Kibble Clean Up Crew, Bucket Cleaner, (Fill In) Lead Dog, Squirrel Chaser, Couch Warmer, Entertainer, Fruit Eater, etc

Tricky hopes to train sufficiently to participate in the Ceremonial Start of Iditarod 2016, but requests to be left home on the couch for the remainder of the event.

 

Mama Libby

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Libby originally named Liberty because she was born on July 4th, 2009 at Ryan Redington's kennel.  She is the most exhuberent dog in the kennel. Always happy, loves attention and gets along with everyone. 

Libby's "friendliness" found her bred earlier than planned. Fortunately, this surprise breeding had amazing results.   Libby x Felix (also Ryan's dog at that time) created an amazing litter of 8 beautiful, healthy, hard-working sled dogs. All 8 are training with the race team.  

While taking a break out on the trail, Libby's distinctive hollar alerts everyone it's time to move on. Once you meet her, you'll understand why Libby's requests are hard to ignore.