The Ultimate Gift — Applying the Life Lessons From the Sled Dogs
December 18th, 2010 by LittlestMusher | Posted in Be The Lead Dog
Tags: Applying the Lessons From the Dogs, Be the Lead Dog, dogs as teachers, life lessons from the dogs
Brick Summer 2010
Brick got stuck out in my back yard about a month ago, during one of our first big dumps of snow this year. He was crying because he couldn’t jump up on the deck and the ramp to cover the 2 feet from ground to deck was piled high with snow. When I heard him and went out to get him, he fixed me with a piercing stare that clearly stated “I depend on you to take care of me. You are going to make things right, aren’t you?” I picked him up onto the deck and promised him that I would take care of him, and make things right. Always.
Today I got to keep my promise.
Brick was large for an Alaskan Husky, tall, extremely angulated, with a “wolfish” shape and coloration that caused people to do a double take the first time they met him. He grew up as a racing sled dog and was a leader most of his career. I got him as my first working sled dog, and when in 2002 I got my first batch of young dogs to train for my Iditarod team, Brick was the only thing I had that knew how to get down the trail, so he fully participated in that first full season I had of training and racing. However, he had already discovered the Crystalwood Lodge guests, staff and kitchen, so when he got stove up after that season, he hung up his harness and moved on to his second career.
He spent the second half of his life as the Crystalwood Lodge Official Meeter and Greeter. He took his job very seriously, and took great pride in his ability to make friends with anyone — young, old, 2 legged, 4 legged, cats, and especially those guests who were initially uncomfortable meeting him.
Brick and His Girlfriends
As I’ve been waiting these last several days for him to tell me it was time, I’ve been reflecting on how Brick touched so many people’s lives, and how he amply demonstrated the individual lessons from the dogs we discuss in Be the Lead Dog, 7 Life-Changing Lessons Taught by Sled Dogs. Here’s a small sample:
- Focus and Drive — With Brick, this manifested as EXTREME stubbornness. Tear your hair out, mutter under your breath (or louder), take-five-times-as-long-to-do-something-while-you-wait-him-out kind of stubborness. While he was still running as a leader, another musher was running Brick on his team one day when Brick decided on his own to turn the team around and go back to the truck…and this musher let him get away with it. From that day, for the rest of his career in harness, I had to fight with that. He just knew he could get away with it again, like this time….
- Transparency — Brick wore his heart on his paw. He loved Crystalwood Lodge guests, and especially their attention and food. He made you feel special, and anybody who was open to his charms was fair game. Innumerable guests came that were uncomfortable around a “big dog” upon their arrival, and before leaving were taking their pictures with him, and giving him more than his fair share of treats and snacks.
- Perseverance — Last summer he was attacked by a wild animal and was pretty chewed up — by the time I got him to the vet he was going into shock, and IV fluids and crispy chicken strips pulled him through. For the first couple of days of his recovery, he didn’t want to do much besides sleep — even eating wasn’t a priority, so I knew he was pretty bad off. The third day he hobbled outside and over to the back door of the Lodge to see what he was missing, but I put him back inside my house when I prepared to take food down to my dog yard, as I was supposed to keep his wounds clean. The next morning, same drill…except when I grabbed him by his collar to walk him back to the house, he started limping faster, pulling me toward the house. So I let go of his collar, and he limped toward the house a bit more, then made a hard left and headed down the path to the dog yard. I sped up to catch him, only he limped even faster and stayed ahead of me. I had to acknowledge he was well enough to get back in his daily routine of going down to the dog yard to supervise the feeding (the only time he was still a sled dog was at feeding time!)
- Trust — When I first got him he’d been bounced around for a couple of years. He was reserved, but after I got him home, he never looked back. And in turn, everyone trusted him.
- Patience — Brick was infinitely patient, whether it be puppies’ boundless enthusiasm (Uncle Brick! Uncle Brick!) or the occasional guest Terrier-ist who insisted that they owned the place and Brick couldn’t come up to visit…Brick would just walk away. Likewise with 2 legged guests of all ages…he got walked, petted, pulled, brushed and talked to ad infinitem, whether he wanted it or not. It was all good.
- Self-Assurance – He just knew he was the man. He never had to prove it, and nobody he ever met ever questioned it. He loved visiting other dog teams, moving amongst them easily and confidently, even when they barked and lunged. “Aw, just chill out…”
Brick Looking for Voles
What strikes me about his special gift is the way he applied those lessons in different situations, demonstrating how they all come together to enable and enrich our lives. Two examples will suffice.
During my first sled dog season with Brick and my young team, we did the American Dog Derby in Idaho, and that year was a low snow year so the race start was moved out of town onto the potato fields and country roads. Parking was horrid, and the only place to park was on the roadside but beside and in front of the race starting line. You guessed it…Brick made a beeline for the truck, dragging his co-leader with him (they are connected with a neckline attaching their collars) — much shouting and chaos ensued, and I finally got him past the truck and on the trail. A couple of miles later, we crested a hill and headed down a long downhill toward an intersection where the race volunteers out on the trail on their snowmobiles had parked their trucks and trailers. I watched both teams in front of me try to turn into the parking lot, and each musher struggle to get their teams to go “on-by”. When it came our turn, I gave my most stern commanding “ON-BY!!” that I could muster. The young dog in lead along with Brick turned his head, saw the trucks and started to lean to head over there. Brick snapped his head, literally jerking this youngster off his feet, wouldn’t even look at the trucks, and trotted the team past without any hesitation. Redemption.
I knew he had this special gift to touch people during the first season of his Crystalwood Lodge Meeter and Greeter ambassadorship. A mother and 12 year old daughter came to stay for a few days, and shortly after they arrived the mom pulled me aside, very concerned about her daughter. The girl had been bitten by a dog when she was quite young, and was terrified of dogs. Since we are pet-welcoming, what should she do if other guests bring dogs? As we stood outside the front steps discussing the options, suddenly the mother looked around for her daughter…imagine the look on her face when she turned around and her daughter was standing there petting Brick. Priceless.
The Last Song
As his condition has deteriorated these past few weeks, he’s continued to teach me. He’s maintained his dignity, as much as one can when your legs don’t work so well and you occasionally fall down the stairs. He picked himself up and went on. He just decided to sleep on the ground floor and not go up the stairs. No self-recriminations. Eat well, enjoy every meal, snack and treat. Always get outside, every day, and exercise as best you can. Engage with the world. Maintain your habits, including always going down to the dog yard for feeding time, no matter how deep the snow. No self-pity. No whining or complaining. Be yourself to the end.
Brick Heading Down to the Dog Yard
And that was his ultimate gift, what he shared with me and showed me. Grace.
Thank you Brick.
Liz, beautifully said. It made me cry. A great dog and a great life.
I’m so sorry, Liz. Brick was such a wonderful dog and friend, and such a special dog. I can’t keep the tears from flowing as I read your beautiful tribute. We’re thinking of you with love….
Wendy and Bob
Thanks Cathy. He taught me a lot, that’s for sure. He did have a great life, and touched many, many people…
You folks certainly fell under Brick’s spell while you stayed here. I daresay he got “more than his fair share” of hand outs from you! Always the gentleman though…he just expected and knew that he deserved some…and some more…
Brick, you are SO handsome!! You inspire me!! What a great lesson from you in “be yourself to the end” and I admire your bravery in getting on in age. You have had a great life with Mom Liz as a sled dog and at Crystalwood Lodge greeting all the guests and watching over all that visit there. I wish I could have met you. Please know that my prayers are with you at this time and I know that when it is time for you to tell Mom Liz it’s your ‘time’, your passing will be a great loss to all there. There are GREAT rewards in Heaven, but I doubt I had to tell a smart and handsome dog like yourself something like that. Please visit my little cat Bandit when you get there. He used to love watching all the dogs on the computer at the Iditarod and we watched Mom Liz the year she ran. Tell him I miss him dearly, but that I know he is pain-free and happy in Heaven, just as you will be
Love, Betsy
The heart of a true solemate, gifted teacher & guardian. you are so lucky to have known him. sorry for your loss. those are the ones we wish we could keep forever.
Thanks Betsy. He did indeed let me know exactly when it was time, just as I told my Mom he would when I spoke with her about a week ago. I’m quite sure he, Bandit, and all of our other companion souls are happy to be free of the constraints of their earthly existence. Brick was an institution around here,and it will seem very strange to have guests here without him hanging around.
Thank you Maureen. It took me many years to realize all that he was teaching me, and I’m still learning…
Liz, I’m so sorry to hear about Brick. Ciry and I were hoping to get over there to see him this past week, but it didn’t work out. I’ll never forget old Brick….he was a buddy. We have a bag of doggie treats that we were going to bring over for him. I think Ill just put it away. This is truly a sad day for me, as I’m sure it is for you. Thank you for the special tribute.
Thanks for thinking of him Hugh. He got some treats when I took him to the vet yesterday, and gobbled them up as usual. Sad, yes, but also a relief to be able to do right by him. He deserved it. I’d rather look back at everything he gave me, and do my best to live up to that. He would’ve preferred a celebration, with all the food getting his personal approval!
It’s so hard to lose a loved one; words just aren’t enough to express the emotion. I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting Brick but I am in wonderment at his beautiful temperament. I have an Alaskan Husky who, at least physically, resembles Brick; only I’d have to say she’s a bit more angular. Diva is a special girl coming from special circumstances, having been left in backyard with her siblings and never knowing human contact or kindness until they were surrendered to a humane society at 6 months of age. Poor Diva was adopted and returned 5 x before I decided to add a 3rd dog to my family. She brings challenges with her, too be sure, but I’m certain that I have been bettered as a person because of her and I hope to continue improving until I’m the person she believes me to be♥ I’d have another Alaskan in a heartbeat if I could manage another dog (or 2 or 3…).
Thank you Liz for sharing; it must have been hard to do. I will take his life-lessons to heart and be the best ME that I can be!
“…taking his life-lessons to heart and be the best ME that I can be!” I can’t think of a better tribute. Thanks Christine!
Dear Liz,
Brick was a gentle and sweet dog and he was fortunate to have such a loving person to take care of him. I’m sure he’ll always be with you, just a step away as he was in this life, your companion and friend forever. The world has lost a remarkable spirit.
Love, Ciry
Thanks Ciry. It is wonderful to know that he touched a whole lot of people in a special way.
Boy will we miss having that old guy around! I’ll be looking for him at feeding time around the truck when I’m over there and his visits to Elk Creek Rd. You did everything just right, Liz. Love from his four footed friends here and Laura and Jane.
Thanks for your support Ciry. Except I don’t think the world has really “lost” him…physically, he’s gone, but look at the impact he’s had, and continues to have. Amazing! He is like the pebble in the pond.
Thanks everybody! He sure loved his Siberian pals, and he and Chloe had the mutual understanding that comes with membership in the “Old Dog Club.” Maybe he was thinking he’d come back as a Siberian next time. Meanwhile, I’m still stepping around him on the landing of the stairs…
You’re right, Liz… the world is a better place because Brick lived. Surely everyone who was privileged to know him has been touched by his sweet soul and the way he lived his life, with trust, joy, exuberance and an optimistic expectation of good things to come (treats among them). We can all learn wonderful lessons from Brick about how to be happy!
We had a feeling … Gerry has been unusually somber and we uttered the words, hoping we wouldn’t get the news. What a beautiful tribute to an incredible spirit, Liz. We consider ourselves so lucky to have had the chance to know him. He lives on here, too, with Tumble and Gerry.
I’m not surprised about Gerry, he too is an incredibly sensitive guy. In some ways even more so than Brick. I’m glad you got to see Brick on your visit last summer.
Your wolfdog is beautiful. I know you have an emptiness in your heart, but that will be filled with all those memories you mentioned in
your wonderful story and tribute to Brick. Each passing of our canine
companions is just as painful and it makes one wonder why we do this.
So many dogs, so many years all equal unconditional devotion, lovalty, and affection from the best friends humans can have. God
loved us so much he gave us redemption and gave us canines to hold onto to get through the troubles. With God and our dogs our lives are
made precious. Can you hear “hello Brick” from the Rainbow Bridge?
I know my fur kids probably met him with hundreds of others.
Hug a dog today and feel the love.
Maureen
What a great tribute to a great dog!! Wish I’d known Brick. His story reminds me of Bill’s leader, Fisher King. He too was as stubborn as they come and it was a battle of wills at times to make a “team decision” with him. Dogs sure bring a lot to the life and existence of us humans. You story just hit it home again with me.
I know you will always miss him!
Thanks Brenda. When dealing with Brick, his stubbornness always kept me honest…always checking to make sure I had the strength of my convictions!
Thanks for your thoughts Maureen! Brick was all Alaskan husky dog, no wolf at all. More than once I had a hard time convincing people of that. One time we were out skijoring and unclipped his quick release as we got back toward the parking lot. He was running back to the truck (in harness, with the line attached), and a little boy on a near-by sledding hill screamed “Wolf! Wolf!”. Brick of course ignored him, hell-bent on going to the truck. Luckily the boy’s father thought it was funny!
Why do we do this — have dogs when we know we have to let them go so soon? Life without dogs would be so very much poorer, a pale imitation of life. My dogs have added such richness, knowledge and so many emotions to my life — I can’t imagine really being alive without them. We get all that, all their lessons, all for the sweet sadness of knowing they will leave us physically too quickly. But knowing we can do the right thing when its time, and they always leave us a better person. And then there’s the stories, all those stories!
I had a friend once who swore off having more dogs. She just couldn’t bear the pain of losing them. But that misses the whole point!
Brick sounds very much like our very first sled dog. I only had the pleasure of running her a few times…She was not a lead dog….she was a wheel dog but she was the most dominant dog I have ever seen and yet she never raised a lip. People frequently thought that she was a pet wolf…She wasn’t…She also loved people,cats, other animals and especially puppies. If someone had pups, Lacy would drag them over to her box and haul them in and mother them. She never hesitated to discipline and teach pups or other dogs in the team what was the right thing to do…And every dog automatically did what she wanted them to do…I thought it would be so fun to “teach her stuff”…..I was so wrong….She taught me more than any teacher ever did….About dogs, people and how to act in life…..She has been gone for several years and I still mourn her….I know that you will miss Brick.
How your heart must be breaking. What a marvelous tribute to this amazing dog. He was your teacher and you were his willing student. In the end you gave him peace by letting him cross over the Bridge. That decision is probably the hardest one dog lovers have to make but we do it because we love our dogs and don’t want them to suffer. Brick is wearing his silver harness and is once again running, free from pain and leading a team again. You’ll see him again one day. My thoughts and prayers are with you.
Liz: What a beautiful tribute to “Brick”. How much I enjoyed meeting him and having him follow us down to the dog houses and hanging out with us that day. He was special! You are so right–having them so short a time does not seem enough but how much would be missed by their companionship and the lessons they teach us–I wouldn’t want to miss the time with my animals over the years. They are wonderful, loving little people. Liz, my heart goes out to you in your loss. Letting go was a kindness to Brick. God’s blessing to you at this time. Karen Bortis
Thank you Bonnie for sharing that. It is part of the wondrous mystery of living so intimately with this other species…they communicate fully in ways of which we can only get small glimpses. We learn from each other every single time we interact.
Thanks Peg. it is nice that folks can understand what a blessing it is to be able to do that for him. I am forever grateful that I could give him that peace, as he surely did not deserve to suffer. We cuddled quite the night before I took him in, and he was enjoying it as best he could, but he was also very uncomfortable…everything he did clearly told me it was his time to go.
I’m so glad you got to meet him too Karen! He did a great job supervising you gals in the dog yard. I wouldn’t trade the time with, and lessons from, the dogs for anything — far too precious a gift.
I’m so sorry Liz! After having spent so many years with him, it must be hard to not have him near you. But what a wonderful tribute you paid to him. He’d be so proud. I was hoping to meet him in February, but I feel I know him a little just from reading your words. Take care,
JoAnn
Thanks JoAnn. He was so doggone stubborn, he would never have dreamed of leaving when guests are here. It is certainly strange not to have him with me supervising the dog yard feeding. We had quite the intricate dance which had evolved there over the years. He knew exactly how to push my buttons, what he could get away with , and precisely how far I could throw a pan of water. Definitely still hear him telling me to hurry up!
Brick, it was an honor and a pleasure spending the weekend with you at the lodge.
When I first arrived and parked at Crystalwood Lodge for the Urban Go-Dog Clinic this past October, Brick came through the hedge and stood there looking at me and my two dogs in the back of my car. I sat there for a minute not sure about him. He just stood there, looking at us. When I got out of the car he came right over and acknowledged me and I him. I could feel a sweet, friendly and courageous spirit. He seemed like a calm, take-the-initiative kind of guy. He sniffed my hand and looked at me. After I checked in I came back out and he was waiting. I got my bags and let my dogs out of the car and they all sniffed and felt okay about each other. Then Brick walked us to the deck. He did his job like a pro.
Throughout the weekend Brick was a constant presence. I didn’t know about his subtle mind-vibing begging techniques, but I learned. He checked us all for handouts, and then made the rounds to check us all again. He got into my gear bag and robbed it of a bag of treats while my dogs, chained to the dog truck, were watching him and wanting to intervene. He quietly stood outside the big windows in the dining room reminding us he was there and we had food. He did it with such finesse, he was subtle and smooth, and a little impish.
I loved spending that time with Brick at the lodge. He was a good boy.
The lesson I received from Brick that weekend was that a steadfast attitude of open optimism transcends formidable appearances.
Thanks Linda! Brick would very much approve of and agree with your observations. In his world…hope sprang eternal — and was nearly always rewarded! Why be pushy when your “steadfast attitude of open optimism” gets you SO much more?
Thanks so much for sharing your lovely tribute to Brick. He was a fantastic companion, mentor, and the list goes on and on. Your memories of him will remain with you until you meet together on an “after life” snowy trail, with him in the lead, of course. Heart-felt hugs from us.
Thanks Pat and Bud. I think he’ll be leading me on the trail directly to the kitchen….
Liz,
What a wonderful dog and emotional and well-written story by you!
Yes, that made me cry as well and it’s hard to make me cry!
When did he pass?
God bless you.
Thanks Diane. He was pretty special…they all are, in their own way, with their own lessons to teach. I wrote this post the night I released him…rather, it had written itself over the previous several days and I put it all down that night — it just flowed, practically unbidden. I’d had plenty of chance to think about what he’d tried to teach me all these years, so when it finally came time to put it all down it poured out. Perhaps he helped me, as I certainly felt inspired. It wasn’t until several days later I realized I hadn’t even thought to recount his worst day on record (or best day, depending on whose side of the story you’re on) and I can’t believe it didn’t even cross my mind, as it is the quintessential Brick story. So I’m pretty sure he had a hand in my temporary amnesia, so this remembrance would highlight his good characteristics…
[...] Brick died in December 2010, and this past year I “interviewed” heavily for the job, but none of my sled dogs wanted to hang up their harnesses.It takes a special warmth and gentleness to deal with the responsibilities of being the Meeter and Greeter. One has to manage all the comings and goings of the guests, from the most senior to the most junior, as well as canine visitors of all ages, breeds, shapes, sizes and temperaments. Not to mention the occasional bird, feline or equine guest. Being a good Meeter and Greeter can be exhausting! [...]