January storms meant we had to wait until February before we saw the sun again. There’s a local saying that if the weather is good you do if it’s bad you don’t.

Sometimes you are out when it is bad. There’s no fighting it you have to stroke it.

When the sun does return there is something very animal that stirs after such a long absence.

Youngsters Bigness and Yogi were learning. They took it in turns to go out on training runs. They were chaotic before I’d harnessed them but they learnt from Knuckle. Knuckle is anvil hard but fair. Bigness and Yogi understood uncle Knuckle's tendency to alter body parts so the young fellows worked hard and reacted sensibly to his growls. By that I mean they were submissive but bounced up to get on with the job.

In his early training days once harnessed Bigness in particular would stand and wait. And wait. He did that because that’s what Knuckle beside him was doing. Bigness copied Knuckle because he had learnt fangs would puncture fur to inflict great hurt if he did not.

At this point I could see Bigness would be inwardly frantic to get going. I always am. Once an entire dog team is harnessed up you reach the crucial point when you must just go, go, go.

In that split second I slip a quick release knot from a bolted rock and if there’s something not quite right with the dogs up front, well, all hell can erupt. Even if dogs aren’t responsible for a balls-up I have known rope-fiddling fingers to be ripped off at this point from explosive dog power. I never want drama. I just want to go, like Bigness.

Since they were both puppies Bigness and Yogi watched dog teams go out on runs. Now they are part of a team themselves.

I make all my own dog traces from Snowpaw rope.

Email question-of-the-month came from a charmer asking me if I eat dogs like explorers of old? No, I don’t eat dogs like explorers of old.