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.
