Good things come to those who wait, or so the old proverb says. I’ve been waiting a very long time. 31 years to be exact.
In 1992 I visited Alaska for the first time. Came up with my (then) husband Pete for an epic adventure to see my Dad & experience Alaska. We hiked to Exit Glacier (which was much bigger than it is today), ate barbecued King Salmon, experienced Seward’s Fourth of July celebration, went clamming for razor clams at Clam Gulch, fished for halibut in Resurrection Bay and stayed at his Gray Cliffs cabin.
That’s when I met Fritz, Dad’s husky. He was a large, imposing sort of dog. Dad had psyched me out about Fritz being only his dog and that I shouldn’t try to be overly friendly with him. To let Fritz make friends with me . I think I was low-key afraid of him before I even met him.
Turns out, Fritz was a gentle giant and I fell in love with him and his breed on the spot. My Dad pulled a good one on me!
For years I’ve wanted a husky of my own but timing was never right. I didn’t want one in Kansas or Oklahoma where I felt the dog would be too hot (yes I know people own huskies in warm states, but I didn’t want to). Or I wasn’t ready to have a dog. Or kids were too young, too much work, yada, yada, yada.
May the dreams you hold dearest, be those which come true. The kindness you spread, keep returning to you. – Irish Blessing
I’ve walked by many a “husky puppies for sale” sign at the local Fred Meyer’s parking lot over the past decade. Look but don’t touch. Too expensive. I don’t have time for a dog right now. Thoughts running through my mind, convincing myself to avoid temptation.
Nearly a decade into my Great Alaskan life I was minding my own business, stopping at the local gas station for some propane when I spied a dog sled team in their boxes on the back of a maroon truck. Working dogs. They were happily looking the other direction, paying the cars and people no mind. I called to them and they simultaneously looked at me from across the lot. Smart dogs. Attentive. Beautiful huskies.
I complemented their human as I walked past the pumps, for his beautiful dogs. He thanked me for the compliment then said “you’re not interested in a puppy are you? Or know anyone who is?”
Oh dear.
“Would you like to see them”, the Sled Dog Dude said.
Oh dear.
They were the chunkiest, quietest little balls of fluff I’d ever seen. White with gray markings, white and black and solid white pups, like their mom. Some with blue eyes and some with dark eyes. One little white female with one blue & one dark eye. Oy. No I can’t get one but I’ll take your number if I hear of anyone I’ll pass it along. Thanks & good-bye.
Oh dear
I went home telling everyone about the cute pups. I texted pics even.
Oh dear.
A week passed, I couldn’t stop thinking about the little buggers. I figured by now they’d be all gone and I would have missed my chance.
I texted Sled Dog Dude and asked him if he had any pups left and sure enough he had three, two females and one male.
Oh dear.
I wanted a male. He’s the biggest pup of the litter and all white, just like his mom. Dark eyes. Quiet. A bit shy.
Sled Dog Dude called me last Friday and said the pup was ready to go. So I drove over to pick him up, it was St. Patrick’s Day. What do you name a wee lad you bring into your family of St Paddy’s Day? Why a Gaelic one of course.
Uisce, pronounced “Ishka”, means frozen river or cold wind from the north. And since no one in their right American English speaking mind will pronounce Uisce correctly, we spelled it phonetically.
We are now a two dog family. Panda Bear was definitely not impressed on day one. By day two she had realized the little guy wasn’t going away. Day three she started to entertain the thought of playing with him. And now they are wrestling, sharing toys, food dishes and beds. Although Panda can still jump up onto the bed to escape his little needle teeth from time to time.
Welcome to the adventure! #SledDoglife.
Alaska on my mind... 