The Yorkshire Vet: Dogs’ joy from what comes natural - Julian Norton

One day several years ago, during the winter months, Jack and I decided to do a triple circuit of the “red route”. It was quite a challenge, covering over one hundred kilometres.

I had technical issues and had to abort shortly after the start of the third loop, but teenage Jack continued alone, finally emerging exhausted and lit only by the light of his mobile phone, well after nightfall.

On better days, we’ve both completed a loop in under two hours and a “double” in not much over four. But for my most recent trip, I’d be whizzing round the forest on four wheels rather than two, accompanying one of my colleagues from the Thirsk surgery, who is an avid racer of husky dogs. In the absence of snow, the team pull a special go-cart at speeds of up to twenty-five miles an hour!

So, after work, I headed over to Dalby’s farthest flung corner. At the rendezvous point, Nikki and her husband were already getting prepared. It was quite a feat of organisation, with about twenty dogs and a buggy which resembled a modern version of a Roman chariot. The first part of the process was to attach each dog to a long, metal cable anchored into the grass.

Each one had its own place, and this was important because the level of excitement from the dogs was so great that they could hardly stay calm or focused. It was abundantly clear that the dogs knew what was coming and were extremely pleased to be able to go running.

The buggy was laid out and in position, also tethered to the ground to stop it moving prematurely, once the dogs were attached.

Ten dogs in total were harnessed to the buggy, arranged in pairs. With helmet firmly in position and seat belt clunked and clicked, I was almost as excited as the dogs. Luckily, I was just a passenger today but the apparent absence of control was unnerving.

After a volley of howls and yelps, we were soon off and the huskies fell silent as they ran, their barking swapped for bumping and skidding noises from the tyres scooting over rocks. Close to the ground the speed seemed unfeasible.

Before long, a ninety-degree corner appeared. The centripetal force flung me outwards, and I found myself whooping with delight. The high-speed journey was over all too quickly, but that was sufficient for the dogs.

Workload and training level had to be carefully managed, to avoid injury and overtraining. They needed water and snacks before they were re-loaded into the van with all the equipment for the journey home. It had been quite a palaver (I compared it to Anne and I coming to Dalby after work to take our Emmy for a walk. Even with just one dog and no leashes nor buggy, it would be a fair trek).

The raw and real exhilaration of being pulled by dog-power was wonderful. But the best bit was experiencing first-hand how much joy the dogs got from doing what came naturally to them; what they are designed to do! I wonder if I’ve got myself a new hobby?