Among several hundred “Husky” dogs, which I have had occasion to watch during my trips north, I remember one particularly well.

His name was Spot. Grey like a timber wolf with funny pale circles round his eyes, he was faster and stronger than any of the team.

Although too young yet to be promoted to be leader, he showed greater intelligence than any of the other dogs. He made a point to be always on the best terms with his driver and showed great friendliness in camp as soon as he was out of harness. He never shirked his work and was exceedingly jealous of any dog who managed to slack in harness without being seen and punished by the driver.

One day, when hauling as number two behind the leader, he noticed that the latter would slack his traces as soon as he reached the back of the preceding sleigh, travelling in the same direction on the same trail. Spot, raging at the idea that the rest of the team was still pulling while the leader, resting his head on the preceding sleigh, was loafing, would immediately seize the trace with his teeth and throw himself on the snow, obliging the leader by the weight of his dragging body to fall back. He would remain in that position until a gap of thirty feet at least had opened between the two teams. Then, knowing that the leader had to start pulling his own share again if he did not want to be noticed and punished by the driver, Spot would jump to his feet and proceed with his own work with great energy and triumphant howls of joy.

At all times he was a great fighter and would often get wounded, even if he did succeed in thrashing his opponent. One day, I doctored his wounds with iodine. Ever after, as soon as he was bitten or cut, he would come up and beg for treatment.

I often tried to fool him by applying plain warm water to his wounds. I never succeeded. He would remain whining until some kind of medicine, which he could smell and taste, was rubbed on the sore spot. Anything would do—listerine, alcohol, even tooth paste. As soon as his nose and tongue satisfied him that he had been properly treated with something that he couldn’t smell and lick without distaste, he would wag his bushy tail and saunter away quite satisfied.