When Sarah’s 2013 Classic Challenge included the category “Classics
Involving Animals,” I admit I was somewhat disappointed. I am not an animal
person. Not to say I want to see them harmed. I just don’t relate to them much.
With a
sigh, I chose Jack London’s The Call of
the Wild and, if you note the date of this review, you’ll see that I left
it until the very, very last minute to read.
Yet, I
enjoyed the book. It tells the story of Buck, a dog living the life on a California
ranch. Part St. Bernard, part Scotch shepherd, Buck is a large, strong dog who
is kidnapped and sold to a network providing sled dogs for the Alaskan Gold
Rush. Told primarily from Buck’s point of view, he faces challenge after
challenge in the icy wilderness of the North.
A while
back, my husband ordered, via Netflix, the 2008 Discovery Channel reality show
entitled Iditarod: Toughest Race on
Earth. I was fascinated and hooked to the drama of this grueling race. Initially,
I was put off by the arduous training and brutal aspects of the sled race. But,
as I got more into the show, I was amazed how the dogs interacted with each
other and their dedication to the work before them.
Without this
introduction to these work dogs, I would never have accepted London’s “personification”
of the dog characters. I would never have believed that a sled dog too injured
or sick to pull would be heartsick when cut from the team. However, the dogs on
the television show became despondent when they couldn’t pull.
In London’s
book, a dog named Dave became too sick to run. The mushers took him out of the
harness so that he could run free, hopefully resting and recovering. But Dave
bit through the harness that connected his replacement to the other dogs and
stood firmly in front of the pack, daring them to go on without him. I learned
this is not romanticism. These dogs are that dedicated.
SPOILER
ALERT: At the end, Buck feels a call he cannot resist and returns completely to
the wildness of his ancestors. He is then completely fulfilled. Here London is
saying that our true natures cannot be fully bred out of us. Does that relates
to us humans as well? Is our history hard-wired inside us?
I’m still
not an animal person, but I have an enormous respect for these sled dogs in
real life and in fiction.
