I Run The Iditarod From My Backyard - The Dogington Post
RALPH Speaks

I Run The Iditarod From My Backyard

The first day of the Iditarod was grueling. We departed Anchorage for Willow at 10 AM.

It’s still mostly dark here. The sun won’t make a full appearance for a few more months.

It’s in the teens here but it feels single digits.

I laugh at the cold. My fur keeps me warm.

My musher has selected me to be the lead dog.

It’s the roughest job.

If I stumble at high speed or take the wrong step, the rest of the team follows me.

All around me, I hear the other teams urging their dogs on.

We know the challenges we face but something forces us to go on.

We are a special breed and we live to race.

Faster I bark to my team mates. I urge them on.

We have to get to Willow first.

We work non-stop in the cold.

Our only reward – the satisfaction of knowing the rest of the race is still ahead of me.

“Will you cut that out!” a voice jars me back to reality.

“Ralph you are such a nut! We aren’t in Alaska. We’re in Florida.”

My dog parent is such a downer some time.

Just because I live in Florida doesn’t mean I can’t run the Iditarod.

I’ll see you in Yentva.

Come on guys, it’s us against the grueling elements.

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