SHAYTAAN SIBERIAN HUSKIES       

Happy are those that dream dreams and are ready to 

pay the price to make them come true - Leon J. Suenes

Another Cautionary Tale:

The Worst Couple of Hours of My Life

I've suffered some interesting times lately, life in the armed forces over the last couple of years on top of owning Siberian Huskies has served to ensure that; this tale however must rank high on my list of life's worst experiences. 

The story begins early one Saturday evening when Louise came into the lounge to ask me what the banging noise was. Totally engrossed in the computer I muttered vaguely that it was probably the bathroom door. She gave me a quizzical look and returned to the television. About half an hour later I dragged myself away from the mindless, and meaningless, game that I had been playing to make a cup of tea. "Help me get the boys in" Louise asked, 'Oh well' I thought "it will only keep me away from the computer for a couple of minutes', "Okay, get some towels and you can dry them on the way in." Armed with leads we crossed the yard to the dog pen. We have only recently moved here and due to the fact that the impending fireman's strike has seen me sent half way across the country I have not yet had the chance to fence in the whole of the property fully. First dog out Fya, nothing unusual in that, he always forces himself to the front. Second Fel, strange it is normally Nero, perhaps he wants to stay out a bit longer; third Flint, that is unusual. We take all three dogs into the porch for Louise to dry them off before they can reacquaint themselves with the settee, we are another of those Husky families who sit on the floor whilst the dogs fight over who will get the best seats.

I return to get the last two dogs. Indie is barking a lot, strange, whilst Nero is deathly silent, stranger still. As I put a lead onto Indie it finally dawns on me that Nero is nowhere to be seen. I rush back to the house with Indie, Louise gives me another strange look "Where's Nero?" "I can't find him anywhere, I think he must have escaped". I think the look on Louise's face will haunt me forever as it went from curiosity to horror to blind panic. "Quick get all the other dogs inside and get me a torch", I shouted, holding onto a faint hope that Nero was hiding in one of the stables that had now been converted into kennels, possibly scared by the noise of distant bonfire night fireworks. I ran back into the pitch black pen trying to hold down the panic. I suddenly remembered that most of the stables had their own lights, I threw the switches and began searching each stable in turn, nothing. The only stable left was in complete darkness, yes he was in there. I had been intending to put down some poison for a family of rats that had moved in underneath the stables. A rat must have eaten the poison, got into the pen and been eaten by Nero; he was now lying in the darkened pen waiting for me to whistle him off to the vets. Panic is a strange thing, we had decided not to put poison down just in case such an event occurred, however my mind did not want to contemplate the worst possible scenario so I convinced myself that we had indeed poisoned the rats. The priority now was to get a torch and get Nero to the vets. I rushed back to the house, remembering to lock the gate to the pen behind me, to see how the search for the torch was coming on.

I was greeted on the steps by Louise, ashen faced, on the verge of tears and torchless. A thought rocketed into my mind, the headtorch is out in one of the stables with all the harnesses and lines, panic and reason battling inside my mind. I grabbed the torch and went into the remaining unchecked stable, nothing, I searched every corner, still nothing, went around all the other stables again in the hope that he had buried himself under some straw or was curled up in such a tight ball that I hadn't seen him the first time through. As I stood peering over a stable door I noticed a gap in the wire fencing about  5 1/2 feet off the ground, only small but a gap nonetheless. I finally had to face up to the truth, Nero was gone. Panic briefly took over, I ran out of the yard and onto the normally busy main road. I set off into the darkness knowing that at any moment I would stumble over a lifeless and blood soaked corpse. After about 1/4 of a  mile I realised that my search was pointless, Nero would easily have been able to outpace me, besides which if the banging Louise had heard over 1/2 an hour previously had been Nero trying to get into the house then he could now be miles away. I ran back towards the house still scanning the hedgerows hoping not to see what I feared most. I was greeted in the driveway by Louise now verging on hysteria; I had to keep her busy "phone all the vets, the police and get on the internet whilst I head out in the van". 

I retraced my steps, this time behind the wheel, after about a mile I reached the next village. Thinking that if he had got this far he would by now be petrified and would seek refuge in someone's garden, they would find him and bring him home, I turned around and set off in the opposite direction. After another couple of miles I saw what I had been dreading most, a big object lying on the side of the road covered in blood. I slowed down and then to my relief realised that it was just a red bag. Foot on the gas and onto the next village all the time trying to watch the road, search the ditches on both sides and look out across the fields; I am not sure what I hoped to achieve but I had to find him. At the next village I again turned to set off for home, he'd be back by now. As I turned the headlights caught a lifeless black and white object in the ditch, it was him. Fear and grief overcame me, then just as I was jumping out of the van I realised that this lifeless image was in fact a flattened bollard. Panic does strange things to the mind.

As soon as I drove back into the yard I could tell from the tears pouring down Louise's face that he hadn't returned. She told me that she had reported it to the police, had phoned every vet in the area, without getting a single response, and had put a message on the internet. The only thing left to do was to search again, this time across the fields. Needing a much more powerful light I grabbed the headlight off the rig, no battery pack, where the hell was the bag containing the battery pack? Into the stable, back into the house, back into the stable before Louise came running out with it in her hand.. As I again reached the road the light I was carrying went out, the bloody wire had become disconnected from the battery. As I was scrabbling around in the bag trying to reconnect it I caught sight of a car stop suddenly about 1/4 of a mile down the road. Something clicked in my sub-conscious but panic pushed the thought out of my mind. 'jusat reconnect the battery and start searching the miles of open fields'. Just as the light sprang back into life the car I had just seen braking pulled up next to me, I looked up to see Louise running back down the road towards us. The driver peered out, "Have you lost a dog?" 'Yes obviously why else would we be running up and down the road at this time of the evening.' "I just saw one back up there, jump in and I'll take you up there". "Is he still alive?" "Yes". "What sort of dog was he?" "Oh a mongrel I think" our hearts sank, "at least he was big and black"; hope. Louise jumped into the car as I decided to head across the fields in the hope of cutting him off. As I wandered around in the fields for what seemed hours, screaming his name into the darkness that was only dimly illuminated by my light I suddenly heard my name being called from the direction of the house. I ran back as fast as I possibly could and there on the doorstep was Louise in floods of tears but holding a very much alive and tail wagging Nero by his collar. All I could do was sink to my knees and hold him, my worst couple of hours were finally over.

the following morning we set about repairing the gap in the fence. Both of us stared at it in disbelief, how on earth did he get through that gap? The fence repaired we did a cursory circuit of the pen just to make sure. In one corner I stood looking for evidence of escape, possible the tyre tracks of the motorcycle Nero had ridden up and down whilst planning his own Great Escape, finding it hard to concentrate because Nero's whining was getting louder and louder when Louise let out an exclamation. Down by my feet was a hole in what we had taken to be the impregnable welded mesh fence. The hole was less than one foot in diameter but on the other side were unmistakable paw and claw prints, he hadn't jumped through a gap 5 1/2 feet off the ground, he had chewed through what we thought was the strongest wire on the market.

What lessons have we learnt from this incident? I think the main one must be complacency, perhaps after owning huskies for five years (yes I know we are mere beginners compared to most of the readership) we needed this timely reminder that huskies can never be trusted and need to be watched at all times. Secondly that no matter what other events occupy your time never put off putting up that fence until next weekend, gales or no gales. And finally no matter how much the little darlings scream, shriek, misbehave, mistake their gee's for their haw's or chew everything in sight (including my favoutite woolie hat) I couldn't possibly bear anything happening to any of our dogs.

Rob Cooke