Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: THURSDAY, April 28, 1994 TAG: 9404280175
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: A11 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: ALISA MULLINS
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
Of course, these casualties shouldn't be all that surprising, considering the monumental feats demanded of the canine athletes.
On average, dogs in the Iditarod run four- to five-hour stretches with just snatches of rest in between. They are subject to biting winds, blinding snowstorms, subzero temperatures and falls through treacherous ice into frigid waters. Their feet become bruised and bloodied, cut by ice and just plain worn out from the incredible distances they cover.
Many dogs pull muscles, incur stress fractures or become sick with diarrhea, dehydration, intestinal viruses and bleeding stomach ulcers. (The last is a suspected side effect of the overuse of aspirin during the races.) One dog in a previous year strangled to death in her traces; another was hit by a branch during the night and ran on and on until she died from her injuries.
Moose, coming down from the mountains in search of food, pose another threat, sometimes mistaking sled teams for attacking wolves. A moose once knocked four-time Iditarod champion Susan Butcher out of the race, killing two of her dogs and injuring 15 more. Sadly, there is frequently no clear victor in these musher/moose encounters. Moose who fail to move from the trail in a timely manner are often shot, and one musher during last year's Yukon Quest (another grueling endurance race) ruthlessly hacked a moose to death with an ax.
The death of a dog in this year's Iditarod was not out of the ordinary. At least one or two dogs die every year; sometimes more than a dozen die, usually from stress pneumonia, gastric ulcers or sudden death syndrome - literally running to death. About a third of the 1,500 dogs who start the race are flown out because they become sick, injured or exhausted. Many of the dogs collapse at the finish line, and many cannot rise to a standing position to eat for days.
And that's just the losers during the race. Behind the scenes of the yearly spectacle, there is an exacting toll paid by the dogs who don't make the grade. To maintain a successful racing team, new blood is required, and not every puppy is a born competitor. These unfortunate underdogs may pay the price of not possessing monumental stamina and speed with their lives.
Two-time Iditarod musher Frank Winkler made headlines in 1991 when he ineptly culled a litter of puppies by first bludgeoning them with an ax handle and, when that wasn't entirely successful, shooting them and throwing them in the back of his pickup truck. Some puppies managed to survive, and their whimpers were heard by a neighbor.
Later, after being charged with 14 counts of cruelty, Winkler claimed he had been told that bludgeoning and shooting puppies was common in sled-dog racing circles and insisted he couldn't afford the price of humane euthanasia by lethal injection-nor could he evidently afford the $1 drop-off fee at the nearest shelter. "I heard you don't take them to animal control," he said. "You do it yourself."
Mushers immediately scrambled to distance themselves from the outcast Winkler, condemning his methods, but acknowledging that culling by whatever means is an integral part of the sport.
As a result of pressure from animal-protection groups and an outraged public, the Iditarod is facing tough times. This year, two major sponsors - ABC television and Dodge Trucks - dropped their support, forcing the Iditarod race committee to reduce the purse from $400,000 to $300,000. (The lure of a huge cash reward has been blamed in part for driving dogs too hard.) And before the start of the year's race, the Humane Society of the United States, which has been working with the Iditarod Trail Committee to improve animal care, gave the ITC an ultimatum: one more chance to run the race without fatalities, or the Humane Society would oppose the race.
Alaskans themselves have reservations about the Iditarod; many believe their pioneering ancestors would be appalled to see the punishment endured by today's dogs. One musher, stranded after 15 of his dogs died during the 1992 Northwest Passage Expedition, was saved from probable death by an Intuit hunter on a snowmobile.
Margaret Mespelt, an Alaskan since 1929, told a reporter, "We knew Leonard Seppala [one of the mushers of the historic 1925 diphtheria-serum rescue mission for which the Iditarod is named], and he would turn over in his grave if he knew what was happening." The original rescue run was tame in comparison to today's race. It was roughly half the distance - 674 miles - and consisted of a 20-team relay.
Even Susan Butcher, who has formed a group to improve treatment of sled dogs, has admitted, "There's a lot of bad stuff going on in dog mushing. We wouldn't, as a group, pass anybody's idea of humane treatment of animals."
Alisa Mullins is a staff writer for People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals.
by CNB