A crashing tsunami of sound washes over me as the truck door opens. Thirty-two dogs bark furiously, crying out for attention as if they had never been touched or loved. This is the usual start of the process of feeding a group of sled dogs. Or it is the normal routine for this dog lot, at least. My past experience with dogs and pets is nothing compared to being around a team of sled dogs — let alone a team of thirty-two sled dogs.
A friend has been helping out a few days a week at a local dog lot, and he brought me along a few weeks after I got to KNOM. I have been going with him sporadically since then. I have always had a good experience with the dogs, but after a few visits, the initial shine wore off. After feeding and watering the dogs, we make the rounds, making sure each dog gets enough individual attention. But I get to a point where I’m cold and a little bored. I look over at my friend and wonder, “Why does he want to be out here so much? This is nice, but still.” This thought crossed my mind a lot, or at least it did until this past week.
I have wanted to go out every night this week to hang out with the dogs. Nothing has changed on the lot. All that has changed is my perception of the process. A few weeks ago, the owner of the dog lot took a vacation, and my friend was responsible for taking care of her dogs while she was away. Going out with him became a routine, and having this routine has been great. Before this week, I had not been taking the time to get enough fresh air. Going out to the dog lot has ensured some physical activity and an opportunity to focus on breathing. At the lot, I do not have to focus on my anxieties. I can just focus on scooping poop or pouring water. It has been nice to lose myself in a little manual labor.
There came a point where the dogs stopped being mere animals barking at me, and their personalities started to emerge. It just clicked. One day, I saw their specific quirks and temperaments. No amount of doting satisfies their love for personal attention. If I were asked, it would be hard to really pick out one dog that could be my favorite. If I try to answer that question, the list just continues until all the dogs are included. They are all so different. How could a person have a favorite when they are all so wonderful? It is such a privilege to be around them and focus on them.
Each night, there comes a point — after all the dogs have been fed, all the poop has been scooped, and each has received attention — that stillness descends on the dog lot. It is gratifying to suddenly realize that all the noise that has surrounded you is gone. Peace has replaced the chaos that began the night, and it has been reached because the dogs feel cared-for. At this moment, I make sure to just stand still, watch the dogs relax on top of their houses, and soak in the silence. This is the kind of warm, comforting silence that never gets old and is always surprising. Hopefully, I will get to experience it again this evening.
