Read Online CAN West 04 - When Hope Springs New by Janette Oke - Free Book Online
Authors: Janette Oke
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didn’t know them really. I still don’t know all of their names.”
I wanted to ask Wynn if I would spoil them by petting them, but Wynn stood to his feet.
“How about if I take you out and introduce you?” said Wynn. “If you leave the dishes, we still have time before dark.”
Wynn knew I seldom left unwashed dishes, but this time I agreed.
“Okay,” I nodded. “You’ve got yourself a date. I’ve been aching to show you how quickly the garden is growing. You just wouldn’t believe it! Medicine man or no, I still think we picked the best spot in the whole region for our garden.”
Wynn chuckled and picked up his plate and cup and carried it to the dishpan. I followed behind him and in next to no time our table was cleared, and I was ready to go.
I had thought that the dogs welcomed me when I came to the island, and so they did; but you should have heard the din when they saw Wynn! Each dog clamored for his attention, and he made the rounds, ruffling fluffy fur and petting bodies that wiggled from head to tail as they squirmed in their eagerness to get some of the loving. I stood amazed. I would never worry about spoiling Wynn’s sled dogs again.
“This is Flash,” Wynn said, burying his face against the thick fur of the dog’s coat as he murmured strange sounds that only he and the dog understood.
I knew Flash.
“He’s the best lead dog in the whole north country,” Wynn went on. “I’d put him up against any other—any day. He sleeps right beside me when we are on the trail. I never tether him. Nothing would get near me without Flash warning me.”
I didn’t know that before. I was comforted to know that Wynn had Flash on “guard duty.” I felt a new appreciation for the team leader. I reached down and patted his massive head.
We moved on.
“This is Peewee,” said Wynn, “the only dog in the bunch that Flash has not whipped into submission. He hasn’t needed to. Peewee has never questioned his authority. Peewee is small, but all heart and willpower. He’d never give up while he had an ounce of energy left.”
Wynn knelt down and took the dog’s head in his hands. The dog whined, deep devotion written all over him.
“Peewee would do anything I asked of him,” said Wynn, “or die trying. Great little dog, aren’t you, Peewee?”
I felt a lump in my throat as I looked at the small animal. In my mind’s eye I had visions of this little fellow valiantly struggling to pull his share of the load. He was smaller than the usual sled dog, but if Wynn could boast of him in this manner, then I knew he was worthy to be harnessed next to the great Flash.
“This is Tip. How are you, Tippy?” Wynn ruffled the dog’s fur and played with her ears. “She loves to be praised, hates to be scolded. Temperamental, just like any woman—make that many women.” Wynn stopped long enough to laugh at his own remark and stroke Tip’s dark brown fur.
“Here’s Keenoo. He’s a half-brother of Flash. Notice some of the same markings. He’s the heaviest dog of the team. I count on him when I have a heavy load. Boy, can he pull! Might even be able to outpull Flash—though I’ve never tested it. But Flash is the more intelligent of the two. In spite of his size, Keenoo hates to fight. Uncommon for his breed.”
Wynn stopped to pet the dog, who pushed up against him, thrusting his nose deeply into Wynn’s hand.
“And this is Franco. I wouldn’t get too close to him. He’s the least friendly of the lot. He’ll let me pet him if I don’t overdo it, but he doesn’t take to others very quickly.”
Franco growled deeply within his throat as his eyes held my face, then he turned to Wynn and his tail waved, ever so slightly.
Wynn patted and talked to him, just as he had each dog, and then we moved on again.
“Why do you keep him?” I asked, concerned about the difference in that last dog’s temperament.
“He’s a good worker,” said Wynn, “and he’s never been a problem. He’s the
I wanted to ask Wynn if I would spoil them by petting them, but Wynn stood to his feet.
“How about if I take you out and introduce you?” said Wynn. “If you leave the dishes, we still have time before dark.”
Wynn knew I seldom left unwashed dishes, but this time I agreed.
“Okay,” I nodded. “You’ve got yourself a date. I’ve been aching to show you how quickly the garden is growing. You just wouldn’t believe it! Medicine man or no, I still think we picked the best spot in the whole region for our garden.”
Wynn chuckled and picked up his plate and cup and carried it to the dishpan. I followed behind him and in next to no time our table was cleared, and I was ready to go.
I had thought that the dogs welcomed me when I came to the island, and so they did; but you should have heard the din when they saw Wynn! Each dog clamored for his attention, and he made the rounds, ruffling fluffy fur and petting bodies that wiggled from head to tail as they squirmed in their eagerness to get some of the loving. I stood amazed. I would never worry about spoiling Wynn’s sled dogs again.
“This is Flash,” Wynn said, burying his face against the thick fur of the dog’s coat as he murmured strange sounds that only he and the dog understood.
I knew Flash.
“He’s the best lead dog in the whole north country,” Wynn went on. “I’d put him up against any other—any day. He sleeps right beside me when we are on the trail. I never tether him. Nothing would get near me without Flash warning me.”
I didn’t know that before. I was comforted to know that Wynn had Flash on “guard duty.” I felt a new appreciation for the team leader. I reached down and patted his massive head.
We moved on.
“This is Peewee,” said Wynn, “the only dog in the bunch that Flash has not whipped into submission. He hasn’t needed to. Peewee has never questioned his authority. Peewee is small, but all heart and willpower. He’d never give up while he had an ounce of energy left.”
Wynn knelt down and took the dog’s head in his hands. The dog whined, deep devotion written all over him.
“Peewee would do anything I asked of him,” said Wynn, “or die trying. Great little dog, aren’t you, Peewee?”
I felt a lump in my throat as I looked at the small animal. In my mind’s eye I had visions of this little fellow valiantly struggling to pull his share of the load. He was smaller than the usual sled dog, but if Wynn could boast of him in this manner, then I knew he was worthy to be harnessed next to the great Flash.
“This is Tip. How are you, Tippy?” Wynn ruffled the dog’s fur and played with her ears. “She loves to be praised, hates to be scolded. Temperamental, just like any woman—make that many women.” Wynn stopped long enough to laugh at his own remark and stroke Tip’s dark brown fur.
“Here’s Keenoo. He’s a half-brother of Flash. Notice some of the same markings. He’s the heaviest dog of the team. I count on him when I have a heavy load. Boy, can he pull! Might even be able to outpull Flash—though I’ve never tested it. But Flash is the more intelligent of the two. In spite of his size, Keenoo hates to fight. Uncommon for his breed.”
Wynn stopped to pet the dog, who pushed up against him, thrusting his nose deeply into Wynn’s hand.
“And this is Franco. I wouldn’t get too close to him. He’s the least friendly of the lot. He’ll let me pet him if I don’t overdo it, but he doesn’t take to others very quickly.”
Franco growled deeply within his throat as his eyes held my face, then he turned to Wynn and his tail waved, ever so slightly.
Wynn patted and talked to him, just as he had each dog, and then we moved on again.
“Why do you keep him?” I asked, concerned about the difference in that last dog’s temperament.
“He’s a good worker,” said Wynn, “and he’s never been a problem. He’s the
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