TROLL -- by Sarah Mann

Troll+and+Sarah.jpg

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 :)