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Hallowed Ground
The last few runs I've scaled back the mileage a bit as 'The
Moms' (Kara and Nahanni) are back in harness and not quite ready to
do the 20-mile runs the Main String was doing.
So, aiming for a run in the 15-mile neighbourhood, I headed off
towards Perryvale. One of my favourite runs cuts along the highway
ditch, then dips into the woods on a hilly, windy, wonderful trail
that drops you out near the Perryvale dump - excuse me - the
Perryvale Waste Transfer station. Backwoods as Perryvale may be - we
are environmental conscious! Across from the dump is the
Perryvale Cemetery - a wooded spot that I think would be a lovely
place to spend eternity.
As I was watering my leaders, Olena and Hilda (who have gotten
over their hatred of each other and actually now seem to enjoy
running together), I noticed a new grave in the cemetery and decided
to wander over and see if it was anyone I knew. It was only a few
feet away and I could easily keep an eye on the dogs. I opened the
small people gate and checked out the marker. It was a name I knew
from the neighbourhood, but not one I could put a 'face' to. I spend
a moment paying my respects anyway. The grave was covered in
slightly wilted roses, pine boughs and even an antler shed - very
beautiful, actually.
The only time I've visited the Cemetery was during breaks on
training runs. Each time I slip in, I vow to come back and really
take a look around. It is really a special place. Unlike the huge
cemetery my Dad is in in Calgary, this one obviously has no rules
about leaving flowers or gifts on the graves. Fresh, wilted, dead or
plastic - the flowers speak lovingly of the people buried there. The
child's toy resting on one grave is a poignant tribute - the garden
gnome next to another endearing (or creepy, depending on your view
of garden gnomes). Some of the graves there date back over 100
years. It is hard not to wonder about the lives and stories that go
along with each marker.
I was never far from the dogs and they stood relatively patiently
the whole time watching me, but the 10 minutes I spend wandering was
alittle too long. As I watered the other dogs, Olena started to get
herself all worked up. All the rest of the dogs and I know that
Olena worked up is a frightening thing. As I put away the watering
jugs and bucket, she started barking and fussing. By the time I was
ready to go, her eyes were flashing and sparks of fire shooting from
her nose.
Olena - Always ready to go
(Click for a larger version)
I wanted her to swing the team around in a tight circle so we
could head back the way we had come. Needing her undivided attention
to make her understand what I wanted, I called her name. Her head
snapped around and she shot me a sharp salute - "Reporting for
duty" - but her attention lasted a nanosecond before she just
started trying to guess what I wanted. She swung to the right, then
left - a nervous Hilda tried to keep up with her. I told Olena to
"Stop" - she did and I gave the 'Haw' command. She shot
around to the left and I gave a second command to bring her all the
way around, quite pleased at how well this was going. Silly me. At
the last second Ollie's focus snapped - she stopped, pondered the
situation for a second, decided there was no way this was really
what I wanted and darted right - straight under the gate and into
the cemetery.
Now, a stretched gangline has a lot of power to it. Martin Buser
has a great story about stripping a windshield, rear view mirror and
other accessories off of a snowmachine that an unwitting driver
parked on the inside of a turn he was maneuvering a big string of
dogs around. Just a few weeks back, I flipped over our ½ full
horse-watering trough when my young leaders tried to follow Mark's
team down a different trail. I was fully aware of all that as I
watched my leaders heading for the once peaceful cemetery. I was
horrified at what could happen here - visions of tombstones toppling
like dominos ran through my head.
Thankfully, the dogs hit the limits of the gangline about a foot
away from the first headstone. I let out the breath I had been
holding tightly onto. It took a few minutes to drag the Evil One
back under the gate, straighten out the team and get everyone
pointed in the proper direction. Olena was still vibrating with
energy, but I held on tight to her collar, looked into her eyes and
told her to 'Settle'. That lasted long enough for us to get back
underway and moving was really all Devil Dog needed to do.
Phew!
Karen
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