Clever Magazine, Vol. 7, #2 " Diary of a Dog Sled Owner " (www.clevermag.com)

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Diary of a Dog Sled Owner

by Barbara Elliott Eaves

In addition to being Clipper's sidekick, Barbara Elliott Eaves is also a wife, mother, and
community volunteer. When she wears her professional hat, Barbara is at the helm of
Sum People Agency, a bureau of outstanding professional speakers and guest experts.

It was so awkward and heavy, UPS couldn’t haul it into the house. I leapt five stairs to meet the driver at the truck. It had finally come. A flying dream, an ice transportation vehicle, my very own dog sled.

I could hardly wait. To sled was to fly, the crisp wind in my face, miles of ice and snow to cover.

I had never done it personally, but I had seen it on TV.

I wrestled the box into the house and towards the kitchen. Clipper, our 110 pound Chesapeake Bay Retriever, could hardly wait to see what all the excitement was about. I dug out the harness and gently caressed the padded “X” that would cross his broad chest. He snorted and danced in circles as I tried to figure out how it went on. Finally, with both of us panting, I stepped back to see how he looked. He looked confused. I knelt down and called him to me. But thinking he was “tied up”, he refused to move. No matter how I coaxed, cajoled and cursed, he kept his furry bottom anchored to the floor.

Finally, I had to take the harness off, put him outside and re-rehearse the harness dance. I let him walk around to get used to the harness while I dragged the sled to the ice. The lake was a pure dark mirror in every direction. I tipped my face to the grey sky and closed my eyes in pure anticipation. Conditions were right - this sled ought to fly.

I called Clipper over to me and hooked him up. We were pointed in the right direction and ready to go.

I didn’t want to say “mush” – it seemed so ….. so sled doggish… so I yelled “PULL!”

He looked at me as though I were an idiot. It’s not like his breed pulls naturally. He had never been trained to pull.

I decided to pull along with him so he would get the idea. I ran – and he ran, dogging my footsteps. Once in awhile, when he pulled ahead, I would slowly drop back and try to get behind the sled. The minute he noticed I wasn’t running with him, he would quickly swing around and run back towards me, flinging the sled over on its side, dragging and bumping it across the ice like a toy.

We kept at it – over and over. Running fast together, I would gradually fall behind and try to hop on the sled. Once, I actually got near to the back of the sled. Suddenly Clipper turned to see where I was – and stopped dead in his tracks. The sled hit him in the rear end. Believing I had pushed it into him, he never let me get behind him again.

Winded, after running on the ice for an hour, I was getting frustrated and Clipper was getting stubborn. Any slack on the harness, he would stop and sit down. That afternoon and for days I tried everything I could think of to move him. I threw things ahead of us - sticks (too light), tennis balls (couldn’t throw far enough), and his beloved doggie snacks (he always stopped to eat).

Hope died a slow death. I went out a few more times, hoping Clip would “learn” to pull.

Hoping Clip would pull if another dog ran ahead of him. (He did follow the other dog - along the shore, and into the bushes…)

Hoping Clip would see something on the ice that he wanted to investigate and pull me even a few feet, accidentally.

Hoping Clip would suddenly get the idea and just run.

Finally, my husband offered to hook the sled up to a snowmobile and give me a “tow.” To show how pathetic I had become, I agreed. He went too fast and I went into an uncontrollable skid. Apparently, it’s hard to hear someone screaming that far behind a snowmobile.

Now days, I just take the sled out and push it along with my feet. Sometimes I get going really good and ride those runners for about 10 seconds. Clipper shows no interest, in fact, he keeps his distance.

I see myself sledding sometimes, with sled dogs - a whole team, joyously doing what they love to do - but it is only in my dreams.

It’s enough for now. And Clipper, no doubt, is grateful