Hope In Every Raindrop by Wesley Banks Page A

responsible for the initial weight of the sled, but they’re also two of the most even-tempered dogs. Which is necessary when we take steep hills or declines and the sled is constantly slamming against the ground. While some dogs may be distracted or unnerved by this, good wheel dogs aren’t.”
    Kyle turned back to the remaining twelve dogs and continued.
    Giza and Gardens were next, followed by Artemis, Alexandria, Hali, Sunshine, Boone, Wyatt, Raley, and Raggles.
    Giza and Gardens looked similar to Colossus in color, but were both female. They walked with ease and grace when Kyle called them. Artemis was one of the oldest dogs in the pack at twelve years, while Alexandria was just shy of one. Hali was a dark rich black, while Sunshine was mostly white with black spots that looked like clouds. Boone and Wyatt were the other two ginger coats on the team. For some reason the fur on top of Boone’s head was always puffed up, and Katie couldn’t help but smile. Raley and Raggles were of similar age, though Raley must have been sneaking extra treats because he looked to be ten pounds heavier than Raggles.
    Kyle paused after he had hooked them in, and Katie was surprised at how much she had remembered about each of the dogs. “These are the team dogs. They’re the fuel of the sled. Colossus and Olympia may get them going, but the team keeps them going.”
    Only two dogs remained.
    “Story. Link. Come.”
    These were the only two dogs that Kyle had called together. They were also the only two that shared a pen, and the same two that Katie remembered Kyle with in the field. While Colossus and Olympia were a contrast in appearance, Story and Link were a complete contrast in personality. Link was several years older than Story, and his demeanor mirrored that. His stride was slow and his eyes were calm. Story, on the other hand, was the picture of energy and exuberance. From the moment Kyle spoke her name she jolted into action, playfully growling as she literally ran into Link’s side, eliciting laughs from both Katie and Kyle.
    Kyle took a second to calm Story and said, “These are the swing dogs. When the team turns together, it’s because of them. They have to be more alert and aware than the team and wheel dogs. They must be incredibly quick, not only with their feet, but with their minds as well.”
    All fourteen dogs stood patiently in front of the sled—except Story, who was nipping at Link’s feet. If Link was bothered, he didn’t show it. Instead, his eyes followed the erratic path of a horsefly buzzing around the barn.
    Katie closed her notebook and slid her pencil between the spiral binding. She massaged her hand, now aching from furiously taking notes, and looked down at the dogs in front of her.
    Was she really sitting in a makeshift sled—or a “basket,” as Kyle had explained was the proper name—in the middle of South Carolina, harnessed to fourteen dogs? It almost didn’t seem real.
    She looked back at some of the other dogs still sitting in their pens. Dixie, Jade, Maynard, Mingo, Shyanne, and Spirit looked back at her. Belle and her pups were resting peacefully, but the other dogs looked disappointed that they hadn’t been chosen.
    Her eyes turned to follow Kyle as he made his way from dog to dog, checking each rigging line and connection for any faults. A light gust of wind swept through the barn and moved something that caught her attention. She looked towards the front of the sled, where one harness lay empty on the ground.
    Katie’s knowledge of dog sledding only stretched as far as the explanations Kyle had been giving for the past ten minutes. But it only took a little bit of common sense to understand the lead dog was missing.
    “Are you missing one dog still?” Katie asked.
    Kyle didn’t respond, which Katie was used to. She was beginning to think he did it on purpose, just to bother her. Instead, he walked towards the front of the team and placed both of his pinky fingers in his