Bear (4 page)

Cordelia drove Lizzie and Bear over to Fern’s house right after breakfast the next morning. This time, Lizzie didn’t mind at all that the rest of her family would be skiing. In fact, this time Lizzie could tell that Charles was a little jealous of her as she climbed into Cordelia’s old beat-up pickup truck. “You’ll get a ride tomorrow,” she reminded him as she waved good-bye. When Fern’s dad had called to make arrangements for Lizzie’s visit, he had offered to take all the Petersons out for a dogsled ride. Charles and the Bean were pretty excited about that.

“I had a feeling that you and Fern would hit it off.” Cordelia turned up a long, rutted dirt driveway a few minutes later. “She’s dog-crazy, just
like you! Maybe you can convince her and her dad to adopt Bear. Wouldn’t that be great?” She pulled up to a small log cabin next to a big barn. Lizzie could hear dogs barking.

“That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking.” Lizzie smiled at Cordelia. “I’ll do my best.” She climbed out of the truck, holding Bear’s leash.

“Call me if you need a ride back!” Cordelia drove off with a wave.

Fern came outside. “Welcome to Dog Central.” She waved a hand at the huge fenced-in area between the cabin and the barn.

Lizzie felt like she was in dog heaven. There seemed to be
dozens
of dogs out there! Dogs were running, playing, rolling on their backs in the snow. “We don’t like to keep our dogs tied up.” Fern led Lizzie toward the barn. “They can roam around anywhere inside the fence. And they’re welcome in the house. Last night I ended up sleeping on the floor because Homer and Sitka claimed my bed.” Fern knelt down to say hello to
Bear. “Hi, sweetie!” She picked him up so she could nuzzle his neck.

“You know” — Lizzie decided to grab the moment — “Bear needs a home.”

“He
does?”
Fern’s eyes lit up. “Maybe my dad will —”

“'Maybe my dad will
what
?” said a deep voice behind Lizzie.

She turned to see a smiling man in brown coveralls.

“Lizzie, this is my dad.” Fern introduced them. “Dad, this is Lizzie.”

“Hi, Mr. Carter.” Lizzie smiled.

“Call me Tim.” The man stuck out a hand for a shake. “And who do we have here?” He reached over to scratch Bear between the ears.

“Dad, this is Bear.” Fern spoke up. “And guess what? He’s looking for a home.”

Tim Carter frowned. “He looks like one of Bruce Madden’s dogs.”

Lizzie thought that name sounded familiar. “I
think he is. Bruce gave Bear to the Harrises to foster because he said Bear was unmoti —” She stopped. Suddenly, she thought better of telling Tim and Fern that Bruce thought Bear was lazy. “I mean, because Bruce had to go to Alaska for the Iditarod.”

“Dad?” Fern looked up at her father. “Maybe Bear would fit in here with us.”

Tim Carter eyed Bear suspiciously. “I don’t think so.” He shook his head. “Bruce already offered this pup to me, but I said no thanks. Why would I want to take on one of his rejects?”

“Please, Daddy?” Fern begged.

“We’re already feeding twenty-eight dogs.” Tim shook his head again. “You know I’m putting every spare cent toward our Iditarod goal. I can’t afford to keep a dog that doesn’t pull. And I’m too busy getting my own team trained. I can’t take on a puppy now.”

“But —” Fern began.

Tim held up his hand. “Enough, Fern. Speaking
of feeding, the dogs are hungry. I think you’ve got some chores to do.” He nodded curtly to Lizzie, turned, and walked toward the cabin.

Fern gave Bear one last squeeze. “Sorry, sweetie.” She kissed his face. “Sorry, Lizzie. I guess Dad’s right. Bruce is the best musher around.” Fern shrugged. “He’s a real serious trainer, and he knows his dogs.”

Fern put Bear back on the ground and handed his leash to Lizzie. “Want to meet the rest of our dogs? You can help me feed them.”

She led Lizzie into the barn and introduced her to dog after dog. “This is Muffin,” she said. “And Spud, and his brother Tater, and that’s Lollipup, and T-Bone. Dad’s always hungry, so all his dogs have food names — in case you didn’t notice.” While Lizzie petted the dogs and let them sniff Bear, Fern pulled out a couple of big buckets and started mixing. “We use high-protein kibble,” she said. “Plus hunks of frozen salmon that we get from a guy in Canada. We mix it all
up with warm water and this stinky fish oil that’s supposed to be good for them.” She poured a long glug from a big bottle into each bucket.

By now, there were a dozen dogs milling around, all hungry eyes and lolling tongues.

“Don’t they ever get in fights?” Lizzie was trying to pat three dogs at once. How did Fern and her dad manage all these dogs?

Fern shook her head. “They all know who’s boss.” She pointed at a lanky black dog. “Muffin there, she runs the show. Nobody would ever mess with her. T-Bone is second in command. Every dog knows his or her place. That’s why they don’t care about Bear being here. They know he’s just a pup and no threat.”

Once they’d fed the dogs, Fern showed Lizzie where they kept their sleds — some for racing, some for training, some, like the one Lizzie had been on the day before, for giving rides. There was even a tandem sled, with room for two drivers. Fern said she had learned to mush on
that sled, standing in front of her dad as they drove the dogs together.

Then they went into the harness room, where everything was neat and organized. The harnesses were hung in order of size, each with a plaque near it, listing the names of the dogs they fit. “'Muffin, Sitka, Waffle, Koyuk.'” Lizzie read the names on a plaque. She reached out to touch one of the harnesses, and three dogs ran over, tails wagging eagerly.

“They’re dying to go out for a run,” Fern said. “These dogs just
live
to pull. It’s in their genes. Plus, we make it fun. Our training sessions are like playtime.”

Lizzie looked down at Bear. He was on his hind legs, with his nose stretched way up high to sniff at a smaller set of harnesses whose plaques read:
PEANUT, HOMER, SPUD.
Bear’s tail wagged just as hard as the big dogs'. “You know what?” Lizzie said. “I think that Bruce guy might be wrong about Bear. I think he might like to pull, too.”

“What do you mean?” Fern sat down on a hay bale and pulled Bear onto her lap.

“Okay.” Lizzie sat down next to her. “The truth is that Bruce told the Harris sisters that Bear was lazy and unmotivated. That’s why he gave him up.”

Fern nodded. “Bruce can’t afford to keep a dog that doesn’t pull, any more than we can.”

“But you said that Bruce was a real serious trainer.”

Fern nodded again. “He is. He keeps his dogs tied up whenever they’re not working and never lets them in the house. And he’s very strict. It works for him, though. He wins a lot of races around here.”

“Well, I don’t have any experience with sled dogs,” Lizzie said, “but I have trained a lot of puppies. And one thing I’ve learned is that all puppies learn differently. Some learn quickly, some slowly. Some need lots of rules, and others need to be babied a little.”

Fern’s eyes lit up. “You mean — you think it’s just that Bruce might not have been the right trainer for Bear?”

“Exactly.” Lizzie was starting to talk faster now. “It’s true that Bear likes to sleep in front of the fire, and he’s not the most hyper dog I’ve ever seen. But you know when he’s been the most excited? Every time he’s around your dogs, that’s when. He can’t keep his eyes off them. And you should have seen him when he heard them coming down the trail yesterday. He pulled me right off my feet.”

By the time Lizzie finished, Fern had jumped up. She shooed all the grown-up dogs outside and into their pen. Then she rummaged around in a
big wooden box beneath the harness hooks. “I think this might fit him.” She held up a tangle of purple nylon webbing. “This was Homer’s puppy harness. We start play training our dogs really young.”

“You mean —” Lizzie jumped up. “Can we try that on Bear? And see if he likes to pull?”

“I think we should try our training method and see if it works better than Bruce’s.” Fern nodded. “I think you might be right.” She picked up Bear and spoke softly to him, petting him gently as she arranged the harness over his head. “See, the
X
goes over his back, and this part goes in front of his chest.” She showed Lizzie. “Nothing goes around his neck, since a sled dog would never pull from there.”

Bear’s tail wagged hard.

Oh, boy. Oh, boy! Does this mean I get to run like the other dogs?

“So far, so good.” Fern gave Bear a kiss on the nose. “He doesn’t seem to mind the harness at all.”

“What’s next?” Lizzie was dying to know.

Fern rummaged in the big box again. She pulled out a long nylon rope and clipped it onto a ring on Bear’s back. “Next we see how he likes the feeling of dragging the rope around.” She put Bear down on the floor, then walked quickly to the other corner of the big room. “Here, Bear!” She clapped her hands.

Bear trotted happily across the room to Fern. The line dragged along behind him on the barn’s dirt floor.

Lizzie laughed. “He doesn’t even seem to notice it.”

“That’s a good sign,” said Fern. “Sometimes puppies get spooked right from the start, and you have to take it very, very slowly.” She gave Bear a kiss and a hug. “Now you call him.”

Lizzie called, and Bear galloped over. “Yay for Bear!” Lizzie scooped him up for a hug. “What a good puppy.” Bear squirmed happily and licked her face.

The girls sent Bear running back and forth a few more times. Then Fern went to the box again and pulled out a chunk of wood, a small log about the size of Lizzie’s forearm. “This is the big test.” She knelt down and tied the wood to the end of the rope attached to Bear’s harness. “Hold him for a sec.” She went back to her corner of the room. “Okay, let him go. Here, Bear!”

Bear took off at a gallop. The wood bumpety-bumped along behind him. He stopped for a second and turned to look at it.

What’s that doing there? Oh, well.

Then he kept going, dashing across to Fern with the log bump-bump-bumping away. When
he reached her, he stopped only long enough for a kiss from Fern before he turned around and ran right back to Lizzie, wearing a big doggy grin.

This is great! This is what I was meant to do. I love to pull.

Fern threw up her hands. “Awesome! Lizzie, you were so right.”

The barn door slid open. “What’s going
on
in here?” Tim Carter stood with his hands on his hips.

“Dad, look! Bear loves to pull.” Fern pointed. “Please, can we keep him?”

Tim shook his head. “Honey, I thought I made myself clear. Even if this pup pulled like Balto, I just don’t have time to train a puppy right now.”

Fern’s face fell.

Lizzie felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach.

“I’m sorry, girls.” Tim spoke more gently. “I’m sure he’ll find a good home with someone who’s looking for a pet.” Then he put on a smile and clapped his hands. “Hey, how about a ride? I’m about to hitch up my team to the tandem sled. Maybe Lizzie would like to try driving them.”

Lizzie knew he was just trying to cheer them up by changing the subject. But she couldn’t help herself. “Really?” she asked. “I would love that!”

“What a racket.” Mom had her hands over her ears. It was the next day, and Lizzie was back at Fern and Tim Carter’s — along with the rest of her family. It was time for their sled ride.

Tim and Fern were ready for them. Fern had harnessed her team of dogs and hitched them up to her sled. The dogs were so excited. They could not wait to run. Lizzie could hardly believe how loudly they were barking. It sounded like six
hundred
dogs instead of six. Tongues hung out, tails wagged, ears were on high alert. The dogs pawed at the ground and lunged at their lines. It took both Tim and Fern to hold them so that they would not take off by themselves.

After Lizzie put Bear into the puppy pen, she helped Mom into the sled, then settled the Bean on her lap. “You are not going to believe how fun this is.” She tucked a blanket around them.

“What about you?” Mom asked.

“We’ll be right behind you,” Lizzie said. “I’m going to help Tim hitch up his dogs.”

Fern climbed onto the runners on the back of her sled, and the dogs went crazy with barking. “Hike!” said Fern. Tim let go of Sitka’s harness, and they were off. The dogs stopped barking the instant they began to run. They took off, dashing like lightning across the snowy field.

“Wheee!” Lizzie heard the Bean cry. Lizzie laughed. She could just imagine Mom’s face.

“Okay, Lizzie. Let’s get our team ready.” Tim went to the gate of the pen, grabbed two eager dogs by their collars, and turned them over to Lizzie, who let them drag her over to the sled where the gang line and tug lines were laid out,
ready for the dogs to be clipped in. She attached Tater and Spud to the lines nearest the sled. They were the wheel dogs, the ones who helped steer the sled around corners. Tim brought out two more dogs — Donut and Waffle — and clipped them in front of Tater and Spud. Donut and Waffle were the point dogs, the strong ones who helped power the sled. The dogs were raring to go, just like Fern’s team. “Maybe you could help hold them!” Tim shouted to Charles and Dad over the wild barking.

Dad stepped forward and grabbed Spud’s harness. “Got him!” Charles grabbed Tater’s. Tim was already bringing the last two dogs over to get clipped in. Muffin and T-Bone were the lead dogs, strong and bold. They were well trained to pay attention to Tim’s commands, but also smart and confident enough to do what they knew was right in any situation. Watching Tim clip them in, Lizzie thought Bear could have been a lead dog someday, if he’d only had the chance.

Tim held T-Bone’s harness. “Okay,” he shouted. “Lizzie, help your dad and brother into the sled.”

“What about you?” Dad looked up at Lizzie as she tucked a blanket around him and Charles. “Where are you riding?”

Lizzie smiled and pointed to the back of the sled. It was Tim’s tandem sled, the one she’d been on yesterday, when she’d had the time of her life helping to drive a dog team. “I’m driving!” She headed back to stand on the runners. Her brother and father craned their necks around to stare at her. Charles’s mouth fell open.

Lizzie cracked up. “Don’t worry! Tim’s in charge. But I’ll be your copilot.”

“She almost
could
drive alone, if she wanted to.” Tim yelled over the barking as he took his place behind Lizzie. “She’s a natural.”

Lizzie beamed. It was true. Driving a team of sled dogs seemed like the most natural thing in the world. It was just like Aunt Amanda had said: If you found the thing that was right for
you, you knew it. The day before, driving a sled for the very first time, Lizzie had felt sure of herself right from the start. Somehow she had known just how to lean her weight to one side or another, how to put a foot down to help push the sled like a scooter when the dogs were working hard going up a steep hill, how to know just when to call out “Gee” or “Haw” to get the dogs turning to the right or left when a fork appeared in the trail.

Mushing was the most fun Lizzie had ever had. She was already having Iditarod dreams. Maybe she would adopt Bear and train him to pull her on a scooter. That’s how some mushers started, according to Tim. And someday she would have a whole team of dogs. Maybe someday she would win that most amazing race — or even just finish it, which would be enough.

“Okay, Muffin,” yelled Tim. “Hike!” And the dogs stopped barking and took off, jerking the sled hard. Silently, the dogs raced up the
trail. Swish, swish went the runners of the sled. Jingle, jingle went the dogs’ collar tags. The white snow lay deep and soft all around as the team pulled together, working as one with their drivers.

Lizzie’s heart was so full, she thought it might burst.

An hour later, back at the Carters’ place, everyone sat down for dinner: big bowls of chili that had simmered on the woodstove, homemade bread, and a huge salad.

Charles could not stop talking about the sled ride. Mom and Dad kept telling Lizzie how proud they were of her. And the Bean was so excited, he could hardly eat.

“Cheers!” Tim held up his glass of cider. “Here’s to Lizzie, the newest musher on the block.”

“Cheers!” said everyone.

Fern clinked glasses with Lizzie. “We have something else to celebrate, too,” she announced.
Her eyes sparkled. “Guess what? Dad changed his mind. He decided he was wrong about Bear, once he saw the way he pulled that log. He thought about it overnight and this morning he told me I can adopt Bear, if I promise to do all his training and chip in for his food.” She bent to kiss Bear, who dozed on her lap. He opened one eye and licked her hand.

I love my new home. It’s cozy and warm inside, and I also get to run and pull things. What could be better?

For just one second, Lizzie felt her heart sink. She had been imagining Bear as
her
dog. But then she smiled. This was so much better. Bear belonged up here in the north, where he would have snow to roll in all winter long and older dogs to teach him the ways of running as a team. She held up her glass. “Congratulations! I think you guys are the
perfect
forever family for Bear.”

As they clinked glasses, an eerie noise rose from outside. A howling, yipping, crooning hullabaloo. “What is
that
?” Mom’s eyes widened.

“The dogs are singing.” Tim got up to open the door. “They do it all the time. One starts and the others join in. Sometimes we sing along with them.” He poked his head outside. “I think I know why they started. Come see!”

Everybody jumped up from the table and ran to the door. Tim pointed straight overhead. Lizzie looked up to see brilliant streaks of red and green pulsing across the sky, filling the darkness with dancing veils of color. “Oh!” She drew in a breath of clear, cold air. “How beautiful!”

“It’s the northern lights,” Fern whispered. “The whole sky is celebrating with us!”

And Bear, nestled in her arms, lifted up his little nose to the sky and joined in the howling chorus.