I really was not expecting to buy another Chinook. After all I had the Magnificent McKenzie and Silly Willy. Then a friend, Jackie, asked if I would like to ride to Seattle with her to look at a litter. I was smitten.
Soon Cedar - "Moonsong" from Moonsong Chinooks; "Cedar River" because my Chinooks are named after rivers chinook salmon live in and she was born near the Cedar River; "Touchdown", because she was part of the Moonsong "quarterback" litter - joined McKenzie and Willy and her sister Zita joined McKenzie's 1/2 sister Rosie at Jackie's home. Jackie and I both being nurses and having a preference for down-ears, decided we should have the combined skill to train Zita and Cedar's ears to go down. After a lot of research, we decided on the nickle/moleskin method. Jackie and I have a lot of nickles lost in our yards. Cedar and Zita have distinctive up-ears.
People always ask "how I tell my dogs apart"? I say "the ears". At first Cedar's ears were almost as big as she was.
They made her stand out when we went to the mountains.
They provided shelter from the rain in the woods.
Even at 2 years old, Cedar's ears were outstanding.
But she was also developing into a real beauty. Graceful, sweet tempered and beautiful enough to take National Champion of Champions when compared in confirmation to all other Chinooks at the National Specialty.
Yes she turned into quite a beauty...
and a catch. She had no trouble attracting a sire for her first litter. They were whelped during the Iditarod Race thus became the BrownStone Iditarod litter with each of the puppies named after checkpoints along the trail.
Except for the nursing part once the little ones got their sharp teeth, Cedar adored her puppies.
Pregnancy became her.
Cedar developed into an athletic beauty...
who I could take with me anywhere.Unfortunately her second pregnancy ended tragically. We lost Silly Willy and her 10 puppies to an unknown toxin.
She taught daughter BrownStone Iditarod Koyuk to mush. (She is easy to spot).
They also pull my dryland rig.
My beautiful, sweet Cedar.
One year ago on her 7th birthday.
As I write it seems like I am producing a eulogy. Far from it. Sweet Cedar with her up-right ears should be running in the woods and on the snow; snuggling as tightly as she can get in bed at night; flashing smiles guaranteed to garner treats and; training her daughter Koyuk and grandson Trask on the finer points of being a Chinook for many years to come.