The Beans

Short story is: I was completely miserable.


Things were fine for the first few weeks, but once we got into trucking the dogs in order to run them, it just kinda flopped from there. I hated trucking the dogs, hated running them. I thought it would get better once I was more experienced and knew what I was supposed to be doing, but that never happened.
Then the cold hit.
Not cold as in zero degrees cold. Cold as in -20 is the high, -45 the low. For weeks. Now those temperatures wouldn't be as bad if you didn't have to be outside in them all day, but I was. The dogs had to be loaded onto and off of the truck several times a day which took at least an hour to do, and there was always something else that needed to be tended to.  I figured, again, it would get better, once the cold was gone. Once we were running out of the yard with the snowmobile and sleds.
Did that happen?
No.
It kept getting worse and worse. We got snow we needed and put the trails in and were running the dogs with the snowmobile and sled instead of the ATV's, but it was still just as bad. I did not enjoy any part of "training" and really hated the days we did it. Off days, as they were called, were spent doing things I didn't mind so much like fixing things and maintaining the trails. It still sucked, but it wasn't as bad as running the dogs.

Keep in mind that I never got to ride the sled, so I do not know if that is actually fun or what.

The dogs... I did not like them very much. Which surprised me a bit. I liked a few of them, Router (who was a megabitch, funny how that works), Lark, Miter, Kodo, and Flywheel. Dar, Kubota, Fergy, Case, and Massey were the only others you could say I liked. The rest, no.
They were incredibly rude dogs. They bit, smashed into you, jumped all over you, and were just a pain-in-the-ass to handle. Yeah they weren't pets, but they should at least have a few manners to make being around them a little easier.
They all ate shit, and a good number of them (especially Mig) would wait until I was out scooping to eat it. When I was watching. Usually as I was heading to their spot to clean it.

I was almost never given any form of positive feedback. I get it that when I do something wrong I am told not to do it like that, but when you just tell me "We'd like to train today so you need to do that faster." without telling me how...Yeah.
I would help with the dishes, take out the trash, vaccum the house... I didn't need to, but I did anwsyas (because I was told i'd get an "allowance" if I helped with household chores, which I never did get) and for the nearly three months I was there, I was thanked enough times to count on one hand.  I hauled all the firewood too, was never thanked for that.
I mean, how hard is it to say, "Good job with the snowmobile today, just try not to run yourself off the trail on the straightaways." or "Thanks for giving Dar some extra straw today." or even, like I said before, "Thanks for taking out the trash." It's not very hard at all, and my Mom thanks me EVERY TIME I do it at home and it always surprises me, since I think I should just automatically do it since I am her 24 year old spawn and it's my duty to do it since I suck at life and still live with her.

That one really hit me hard. No form of positive feedback is very difficult to work with when you are basically doing servant/slave labor. Which is what I've decided is what these people wanted.

So I tried to tell them once that I couldn't handle it anymore and either something needed to change now or I was going to leave, which they took as "The handler is having a mental breakdown, they all do it around this time of year. It's normal." So when they blew me off I gave them a few more days to see if it would get better (we'd all agreed to attempt a few things to make stuff easier for each other, all of which I did, they didn't) but it did not. Seemed like it, as usual, got worse.
I'd had it, I really couldn't stand it anymore. I was getting out. And I let them know.

Oh man the shit hit the fan! I got lectured, was insulted, and generally made to feel very uncomfortable and afraid.
Funnily enough, I'm usually the first (and often only) one to throw insults. This time however I didn't say one damn negative thing about these people. I thought they were nice, which they seemed like they were, until they decide they don't like you, then they were complete assholes.

Being told that: "You are very good when nothing changes, but when one little thing gets changed, you can't do shit. You would do really good in an environment like an office where it's the same thing every day and you don't have to think."  Was perhaps the most insulting thing I have heard in years.
Problem with this is: When something did change in the routine, I WAS NEVER TOLD ABOUT IT. It just changed, nothing said or explained, and I was supposed to magically know about it.


Conker is a subject all of his own.
He was not liked, at all. He was basically given one introduction to the three house dogs, one of whom he growled softly at when she got in his face, then became socially isolated. Well, I never told them since I wasn't supposed to be doing it in the first place when they weren't around but... The three house dogs and Conker got along JUST FINE. When they were at work and I was in the house, I'd have all four of them out and there were no problems.
Finch, actually, was the one who was the asshole. She'd walk up to Conker and growl at him. He was usually just standing around or laying and she'd up and growl at him. So really, it wasn't Conker who was the asshole, it was their precious Finch.

Since Conker was "bad" and not trustworthy, he did not get to be around other dogs, or anyone other than me. When we were in the house he could be in my room, but that was it, so that's where I spent most of my free time (they called it "hiding in my room") because that is where Conker was and I honestly did not feel very accepted around them.
When we were outside, he could either be in a wire crate in the garage, or in a pen outside. I did not like putting him in either, but preferred the pen since he could move around if he chose to. When he was in the pen he would bark (he'd bark in the garage as well but not as much). At other dogs, animals, people, whatever. No biggie, all the other dogs would bark at those things too.
But unlike the other dogs, he would constantly bark. All the time. This was a new behavior from Conker that I had not seen before, and it took me a while to understand what it was.
If there were people over, he was going to bark. We all knew that. I'd try to keep him quiet but STRANGE PEOPLE MUST BARK AT THEM! Or if someone let the dogs in the garage (injured) out, STRANGE DOGS MUST BARK AT THEM!
But this constant barking... I figured it out when I took the time to stand there and really listen to it. It was completely new to me, and from my limited experience with dogs, what I heard was loneliness. I tested that by walking over to his pen to see what was up. If it was a strange person, dog, or animal, he would not stop when I approached. If it was not one of those things, and was this new bark, he would stop. If I turned around and left, he would start up again.

Conker was calling me.

They said that they didn't think being socially isolated (my term) was bothering Conker at all, but after discovering this new bark, I knew they were full of shit. I don't know why it took me so long to figure it out, but it did, and once I did, I knew something had to change.
So I asked if we could try having Conker with the house dogs again.
"No, he growled at Finch."
He was not even given a second chance.

All these things and a few more made being in Alaska completely unbearable. And with how I was treated ("You need to find a flight out of here, the sooner the better, because we are not going to feed you anymore.") when I tried to tell them in a nice way that I couldn't stand it anymore, there was no way I was going to stick around.
So that night, after I told them the problems and that I was leaving, I booked my hotel room, flight, and vet appointment.
Conker and I were driven to the airport (Conker didn't get to ride in the cab, he had to stay in his crate in the bed of the truck regardless of the temperature) after N had done morning dog chores and had his breakfast while I finished packing and cleaning up my room.

Let me tell you, stepping out of that truck and dropping my bags on the curb and retrieving Conker felt great. I have no regrets and do not feel bad in any way about ditching those people in the middle of their season. Many other things were said to and about me the night before that made me realize that they were not actually very nice people at all and had a huge problem with communication. I am so glad I did not stick out the last three months with them.


The End.

Travel Day

It's here, the day Conker and I fly back to Oregon. We are just waiting for check-out time to arrive so we can hitch a ride on the shuttle to the airport and sit around for an hour before check-in, then do some more sitting around, some flying, a lot more sitting around (got a 4 hour layover that wasn't there before... SO happy about that) and a bit more flying before we make the 30 minute drive back to GP.

So last night Conker, as usual, was up every few minutes barking (softly) at noises outside. This is normal for him in a hotel room, he's done it every time we've stayed in one. Unfortunately for me that means I get less sleep, but at least I got enough that I woke up before my alarm went off instead of after.
I gave Conker a long, long brushing and pulled many puppies worth of undercoat off him. Which means he's shedding right now, and it'll only get much much worse once we are in Oregon with the warmer temperatures. He looks, feels, and even smells a lot better now since he has not had a good brushing since like, the first week of being in Alaska.
After the brushing session, I gave him a very thorough massage which he completely enjoyed, so much so that he was making these funny sounds that he only does when he's very relaxed and comfortable. That made me happy to see him finally enjoying some good one-on-one time with me.

And that Amish Mafia show I watched last night? Freakin awesome.

Anywho, looking forwards to getting back to GP. I'm sure Conker will be very glad to be back home, Juneau and Sasha might not be as happy as him since he does annoy them somewhat (a lot, actually), but since I am part of the Conker package, I think they will be fine with that 'cause I'll take them hiking with me again.

Anyways...

Conker and I are booked to boogie at 2:20 tomorrow afternoon. We spent one last stress-filled sleep-deprived night at the kennel then got a quiet yet quite Republican (Rush Limbaugh was on the radio) and uncomfortable ride to Anchorage where we were dropped off at the airport then caught a shuttle to our hotel. (Intentionally done that way.)

I dinked around on the free wifi for a bit before taking Conker to the (rather expensive) vet to get a health certificate so he can fly tomorrow. The vet tech and veterinarian were very nice people and just LOVED (and also knew where it was from) Conker's name. He was not so fond of them but they still adored him anyways. The vet noticed his right luxating patella in a snap, which I told her I am fully aware of, and she reconfirmed that it is not severe. The vet tech was surprised to learn that I was also fully aware of how severe the heartworms are in the States and that since I am going to (returning) to them that Conker should be put back on (though he was never really taken off of) preventives. She was also surprised to learn that I happened to be going to one of (if not the) worst areas for heartworm infections in Oregon. But she was glad that I was not only aware but had already taken the steps to avoid Conker getting infected.
They were impressed with Conker's weight (I admitted that his condition wasn't as good as it's been before, he lost a lot of muscle mass over the past couple months much to my extreme annoyance) and complimented me on keeping him trim, especially since his knees are bad.
It was the fastest vet visit I have ever had, which was good for Conker since he was already stressed from the hour and a half ride in a cold crate in the snow-filled back of N's truck down to Anchorage, as well as the 3 mile hour long walk along the ice covered sidewalks of the city as traffic rushed past a bit close for comfort.
They were incredibly nice people, fast yet thorough, and even though we were never going to see them again, I could tell that they cared about Conker's well-being. That was pretty cool.

(Holy crap a TV show just came on that's about the Amish mafia... Watching this for sure!)

After the vet visit we walked (slower than before, my feet hurt and it got 10x slicker during that brief visit) back to the Puffin Inn where I left Conker for a short moment and hopped over to Mc Donalds where I picked up a McKinley Mac, an Angus with bacon-and-something burger, a large Diet Coke, and large coffee (with creams and sugars!) for myself and...

A double cheeseburger for Conker. Yes, giving my dog (who has a history of digestive issues) a double cheeseburger the night before a full day of airport madness was probably not the best idea in the world, but it was only $2, Conker had not eaten anything all day (nor had I, N and J refused to give me food) and I was greatly lacking in the give-a-shit department. Which I still am.
He also got some french fries which he just adored, moreso than the cheeseburger, oddly enough.

I took a nice long relaxing shower as Conker snuffled around our rather small but very cozy hotel room (seriously, it's barely bigger than my old trailer, but I like it) looking for more french fries, and nosing his head into the shower every few mintues to check-in with me. (Funny fact: If the shower has a curtain instead of a hard door, Conker will regularly stop by and brave the indoor rain for a moment to be with me, but if it's a solid door he wants nothing to do with the shower.)

Well, it's 6:30, the Amish Mafia are, mafiaing, and I am beginning to hear the calls from the frosties at the Wendy's across the street. (Remember what I said about the give-a-shit department?)  I might jump the road and get one in an hour or so.


I might write another update tomorrow morning before we jet (or propeller?) but will save the explanation post for when we are back home and comfortable again.

Notes from a Sled Dog Handler

I have a new blog! It's going to be where the majority of the sled dog stuff is posted, but a lot of it will still be posted here on The Adventures of Conker. I have decided to make a new blog for the sled dog stuff since it really does not have anything to do with Conker, and I'd prefer not to have to sort through things too much in order to look back for a note on something.

Anyways, here it is!  (Needs a bit of work, but it's good for now.)
Notes from a Sled Dog Handler

Well hello there! It's been a while. I have finally returned to the depths of the internet. A more detailed update will be posted later when I've caught up on some things and have some free time to write about what I've been up to in Alaska for the past 40+ some odd days.

Currently it's about -15 degrees outside, just thought I'd let you know.

Travel day looms near

I gave almost all of my meat away today. It's kinda sad, I have no more meat for my dogs (sparing some treats I'd made and a couple meals for the Girls) and thus feeding the dogs has suddenly become really boring. But those people I gave the meat to looked like they really could have used some free meat, so it's all good. (Everything they got was human-grade stuff.)

Conker still hates the crate, I don't think he'll ever actually like it.

I am just about packed for Alaska and only have a few things left to do. The freezer is defrosting, the trailer is almost cleaned out (needs a good vacuuming), I cleaned my stuff out of Leo (my Jeep), and I am just about packed. Only a few odd things left to do here and there.

Oh, I found something out recently.
If you are a regular reader of this blog, you might know about something Conker creates I call Deathfarts. Well, I have found a culprit! Raw lamb. I have been adding lamb to his food for the past few days and the Deathfarts have been about overwhelming. When I remove the lamb, the Deathfarts go away. So, no more raw lamb for Conker.

Anyways, I am excited to go to Alaska, but not looking forwards to traveling. I really hate airports, they ruin the fun of flying (if there aren't a million people in the plane) and stress the crap out of me. The fact that I'm going to have a dog, my dog, with me on this trip is even worse. I already stress enough about him, so this should be oh so interesting.


I'm probably not going to have internet access (actually I will, but I most likely won't be blogging) for a short while after I get to Alaska, so the blog won't update for a little bit after Thursday.

Chicken, it's eeevil

Conker has decided that most chicken is EVIL. I don't know why, but for many months now he just will not eat bone-in chicken happily, or at all in most cases. So I have decided to only feed him chicken that is both bone-free and skin-free, since chicken skin is eeevil too. Flat yellow things are eeevil as well. Strange dog.
Oh, he also isn't very fond of the crate. Which he needs to get used to, because the both of us are going to Alaska.

Yep, Conker and I are going to Alaska. Soon. On Thursday.

WHY, you might be wondering, are Conker and I going to Alaska, of all places, right before winter? Well, I got a job as a dog handler for a sprint racing kennel. That's right! A sprint racing kennel! How random is that?