The future queen was born on Aug 8th, 2010 to Mama Gypsy and Daddy Guetknecht and grew up to be Jodi Bailey's star leader. She ran the Iditarod for the first time in 2013 and then ran the subsequent three years (2014, 2015, 2016) in lead. She had a gradual retirement. She was not interested in a couch-based lifestyle. Victoria tried to move her into her handler's cabin to sleep on the bed, but she was not interested (Cricket sure was though!). She ran loose with the team for a while, helping to train puppies and yearlings. In 2020, she came to live with us. She was not sure about it at all, and it took a while to convince her that it was okay to relax inside, and that we would never force her to relax against her will. True to her determined character, she never did fully embrace retirement. I just now did a rough estimate and we covered around 6000 miles together in just the four years we've been together, between running, hiking, skiing, and skijoring. Her line never slacked; she "lined out" like a boss, even when I was squatting to pee off the trail.
She was not lovey or cuddly, and it drove. Me. Batty. Because she looked like a teddybear and had the sooooofftest fur and the biggest fuzzy mittens and the cutest black tootsies. But she was mortified by her cuteness and did Not. Want. To be regarded as a teddybear. (Quote Jodi: She may appear to be "sweet, soft and snuggly but really, she could chew nickels and spit nails.") For the most part, I tried to respect her wishes although I snuck the occasional hug (especially while putting on or taking off her harness!).
But we knew that she loved us, and I knew that she loved me, despite our mismatched love languages. Her recall was not great (she had a classic husky "pretend deaf") but it didn't matter because she was never far. Even running loose on the trails, she was right there, and if she was ahead of me, she'd look back over her shoulder constantly, checking in. If I fell down, she was immediately at my side. And as her mobility began to fail, I worried for her pride, which was fierce. How could I support a dog who does not want to be held? I needn't have worried. The greatest gift she ever gave me was her trust. She let me lift her onto the porch when she could no longer do so. She let me take her for walks with her butt in a sling, and she was not ashamed. She was still a proud lead dog, and her limited mobility did not impact that after all. But as the days passed, I could feel her getting heavier and heavier in that sling, and when she could no longer bear any weight at all on her back end, we knew it was time. Boy, it was a hell of a ride though.
Leading with Chase-Um in 20014 Iditarod:
Testing out a new sled. Victoria took this photo. She was behind Dan, whom you can see in the photo. She fell off and they kept going without her. :D She snapped this photo on their way home.
Leading with Quill:
2015 start with Sparrow:
With Cricket's sister Bedbug:
With Maven and human Victoria:
In lead with Spitzer:
We had a blast! Thanks for the miles, my friend.
Thank you for four wonderful years, Miss Thistle. Four years of your beauty and your big doe eyes that gazed into my soul and greeted my heart with courage and wisdom. Please continue to check in. I will see you in my dreams.
