Mad Huskies and English Dogs

The extreme climate of Korea, in my humble opinion, is its achilles heel. For the country's plethora of positive offerings, its weather is not one of them. In my reckoning, maybe only 10 weeks of the year can be classed as truly obliging. Not enough bang for my buck. Maybe five years in Australia ruined me.

There was a time last summer when running along the Han River, dressed in as little as socially acceptable by nationally conservative standards, that I saw a large Husky dog labouring along the path, seemingly in an even worse state than myself. Its inflated owner also dressed for the oppressive conditions wore a look of pride with his t-shirt and shorts, as almost every passer-by "ooo'ed and ahhh'ed" their admiration for this fine canine. The first thought that dropped into my head was one of disdain for the self-aggrandizing owner, followed by a sympathetic albeit succinct internal monologue, aimed at the dog, consisting of "Poor bastard". Its tongue lolled from one side of an open mouth, its panting audible and its heavy coat punishingly hot. It made me question the owners mode d'emploi

Last night, down by the same river and co-incidentally somewhere close by the same location of my summer Husky encounter, I had another one. With temperatures around -8 and a stiff wind very much adding insult to injury, I came across this sublime specimen. It may or may not have been the same dog, but the contrast was stark. With its head held high, its eyes bright and a moist nose savouring the boreal breeze, it looked totally at one with the world. I slowed my pace upon approach and for a brief moment our eyes met. My eyes in actual fact the only part of my personage that was exposed to the elements, full-faced balaclava in situ. I can only imagine that its first thought was "Poor bastard". Actually no, I take that back, maybe it was "Stupid bastard". Harsh but fair. I mean after all, I'm there on that path, in those conditions on my own volition. Nobody has put a lead around my neck, dragging me from relative comfort so that both my owner and I can get some exercise. (Minju is not one for exercise anyway). I've never once tried to dig my heels in at the door in a futile attempt to evade the inclement conditions. 

Although that dog seemed happy last night, I'm still guessing that with strong pack instincts, it would prefer to be trotting along with a few other huskies. That's how I felt last night too. My pack instinct was strong and I was missing my two running buddies. It was the most challenging run I have done this Winter thus far, and by no means pleasant. Which begs the question why? Maybe my running partners would also be able to fathom the reasons why. We all have similar goals, we all have desires that we work hard to meet and perversely enough, we all enjoy the challenge that this suffering brings. Like a pack of working sled-dogs, we are all pulling in the same direction and running together as we do, tends to ease the burden of the load we carry. No doubt a training regimen for an upcoming marathon is in itself a load which can become a burden if not managed well. It's just so much easier to do with others.

Huskies need consistent training and do well with a positive reinforcement training program. They are of average working/obedience intelligence. They tend to run because they were at first bred to be sled dogs. Owners are advised to exercise caution when letting their Husky off the leash, as the dog could be miles away before looking around and realising its owner is nowhere in sight. They also get bored easily, so exercise at least once a day is essential. Failure to give them the attention or proper exercise they need can result in unwanted behaviour, such as excessive howling, marking, chewing on furniture, or crying.

A dog after my own heart.

So, with at least two more months of frigid temperatures ahead, and in order to protect our furniture, I'll be out there no matter what, doing my best Eskimo impression.  After all, you've got to be Inuit to win it.

My new favourite dog