Fantasy, Adventure, Encouraging

    I was sleeping peacefully by the warm fire, the cold Greenland air howling. The cinders popped, sending waves of warmth washing over me, gently ruffling my black and white fur. I rested my head on my paws, wondering when Pyflore, my owner, would feed me as my stomach growled better than I ever could. My name echoed in our small cabin, Pyflore’s gruff voice continuing on with the names of my sled mates. Eagerly, I jump up, stretching with my tail wagging. I padded into the kitchen where he was just setting down my food in a bowl labeled Jackal. That’s me. As I ate, the rest of the pack filed in beside me, each dog eating from his own bowl. The phone rang in the distance, a curious sensation which rarely occurred. We lived out in a field, training around the year for the annual sled dog races, and we rarely got calls. Pyflore answered and I didn’t think much of it, until he re-entered the room, a worried expression on his face. His wife, Celpe, also noticed and asked what was wrong. 

    Pyflore said the Loptoad was missing. Every dog’s head popped up, including mine. Loptoad, their son, was a favorite among us dogs, even though he was training his own team of elite sled dogs that we would race this year. Pyflore whistled, every dog running to his place in the shed, ready to be suited up for the sled. I headed to my dot until Boots crossed my path. The larger dog was Pyflore’s favorite, the lead sled dog. He barked mockingly, telling me that I was too small for an important mission like this one. My tail sagged, and he pointed his snout back towards the house. He was the lead sled dog and his word was law. I returned to the front steps, sitting on the hard wood. Pyflore came out and saw me hanging back. He frowned and scratched me under my chin, telling me that I would get up the courage to run one day. He turned and began hitching the rest of the dogs to the wooden sled, Boots standing smugly at the front. 

    After a few minutes, Pyflore opened the gate and the dogs took off, running and panting and barking, towing the sled across the snow. I watched as the dog tracks got longer and longer as they sped towards Loptoad’s cabin. They finally disappeared when the snow picked up and the wind got bitterly cold. I turned and entered the cabin again, hoping to beg Celpe for more food. She was watching me curiously as I slunk my way inside, ashamed. I looked at her and she said one word: ‘go’. That was all the confirmation I needed. I whirled around and bolted out the door into the storm, the sky was growing darker and the wind was getting colder. 

    I plowed on, slamming my paws into the cold snow and breathing in the sharp, crisp air. The sky was black, with small stars blinking down at me. It got so hard to see, I was tempted to stop, but just then, the night was filled with glowing green and blue lights: the Northern lights. They illuminated my path, encouraging me to keep going. I felt tiredness creeping up into my bones, but I ignored it, and just focused on running. After hours, I finally saw Loptoad’s cabin, and the Northern lights showed me the tracks of Pyflore’s sled. I followed it, smelling the scent of my owner on the snow. Up ahead, I could see the avalanche remains and I heard Pyflore’s calling. 

    I bounded up to him, seeing the large hole of snow the dogs had dug. In the middle was another smaller hole of rock that led down into a cave. I could hear Loptoad’s calling; he was trapped in the cave. I knew that none of the other dogs could fit through such a small hole, but I could. Boots was watching me angrily, but I didn’t care. Slowly, ignoring Pyflore’s reprimands, I descended into the snowy hole. It was hard to keep from slipping, but I finally reached the rough rock at the bottom. I poked my head through, with plenty of room, so I cautiously jumped down through it. I landed with ease, my small build making me light and quick. It was dark and cold, like outside, but there was no wind. I barked, hoping Loptoad would reply. He called out, but his voice echoed around the many tunnels in the cave. I explored one, barely able to see. 

    He wasn't there. I backed out of it and tried another one. This one was warmer, which gave me hope. I followed it, the heat growing more and more prominent. I burst into a much smaller cave and saw Loptoad sitting cross-legged by a small fire. I barked happily and bounded around. He laughed and got to his feet, lighting a stick on fire and holding it above his head like a torch. He told me to lead the way, so I led him back to the cave with the hole on the top. The sky was yellow and pink: dawn had just broken. Pyflore yelled down to Loptoad, who called up. I saw Pyflore peer down into the cave and gesture to me. Loptoad picked me up and lifted back through the hole to the surface. Pyflore grabbed me and rested back down onto the cold snow. 

    A few seconds later, and Loptoad pulled himself out of the hole. Pyflore hugged him and me, telling me that he was proud of me. I wagged my tail in appreciation, much to the annoyance of Boots. When we got back to the cabin, Pyflore scratched me and told me that he wanted me to be his new lead sled dog. Boots would be demoted to right second -in-command. After he left, Boots came over and nudged me. He barked grudgingly, his way of showing respect. The next time we went out, I was the lead dog and we ran faster than we ever had before. 

    A few months later, we journeyed to Alaska on a boat for the championship sled race. I was Pyflore's lead dog, and I was feeling the nerves. When the starting gun went off, my we shot out, leaving the rest of the teams behind. As we ran, Pyflore shouting encouragingly and we were responding. Every one of us ran with more enthusiasm than we ever had before. As we neared the finish line, we could hear the crowds cheering. Pyflore urged us on and we ran with everything we had. When we finally crossed the line, the stands erupted into applause, but the best part was seeing how happy Pyflore was. He ran to us and we all jumped on him, pushing him into the snow. 

    Later, Pyflore picked me up and carried me to the podium with him as he got his gold medal. I wagged my tail happily, and when we finally got back to the boat, I slept like had never slept before. Sometimes, the smallest dog has the biggest dreams.