Sliding over the snow pulled by happy enthusiastic dogs. Silent except for the swish of runners on the trail and the breathing of the dogs. Breath that frosts their fur. Moments ago they were loud, leaping and yipping "Let us go!!!" Happy to be on the trail, they whisk you over the snow into the adventure of a lifetime.
For the animal shall not be measured by man. In a world older and more complete than ours, they move finished and complete, gifted with extensions of the senses that we have lost or never attained, listening to voices that we shall never hear. They are not brethren, they are not underlings; they are other nations, caught with ourselves in the net of life and time, fellow prisoners of the splendor and travail of the earth.
Henry Beston The Outermost House.
LUCKY CAT DOG FARM