Six dogs, almost rabid to take off, left their driver in the dust (snow) today. Buffy, Matilda in lead; Kiddo, Ruthie, in swing; Herman, Quattro in wheel, took their chance to fly when their driver (un named) pulled the quick release but wasn't on the sled. The handler (hm, me?) looked at the driver quizzically, watched the flying dogs whizzz by and jumped on the SkiDoo.
The driver had already taken off running after the team, ha ha.
We picked up the driver who threw himself onto the back of the sled and couldn't budge from the hauling compartment, legs in the air. We found the team rolling down a steep hill, sled tipped and I drove the Skidoo across the trail to stop them, ha! They skirted me and rammed into the driver, the brushbow knocking him into the sled on his knees. He looked up at me and all I could do was laugh. In a masterful leap, he was back on the runners and the crazies headed for the front gate at Mach 1 (did I spell that right?). They tried to dump him again, but he drove them home where they stopped on a dime and demanded soup for such a fine run.
Of course I did not have my camera handy when they bagged him on his knees, or it would have made the front page of 'fun pictures' of SDC for sure.
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