Lindnord - Arthur: the Dog Who Crossed the Jungle to Find a Home

Copyright 2017 by Mikael Lindnord

First published in the U.K. by Two Roads in 2017

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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the publisher or a license from The Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency (Access Copyright). For a copyright license, visit www.accesscopyright.ca or call toll free to 1-800-893-5777.

Greystone Books Ltd.

www.greystonebooks.com

Cataloguing data available from Library and Archives Canada

ISBN 978-1-77164-337-5 (pbk.)

ISBN 978-1-77164-338-2 (epub)

We gratefully acknowledge the support of the Canada Council for the Arts, the British Columbia Arts Council, the Province of British Columbia through the Book Publishing Tax Credit, and the Government of Canada for our publishing activities.

I never set out to have a dog.

But I feel there is something of Arthur in me.

Meeting Arthur and bringing him home is the single best thing I have ever done.

Contents

Chapter 1

A Sporting Chance

People who do adventure racing are not normal

rnskldsvik, November 2015

Its eleven thirty at night, and Im just beginning to hit my stride with the emails that have been piling up in my in-box. We are only days away from setting off for the Adventure Racing World Championship in Brazil the highlight of the years racing schedule. There are a hundred things to organise, and my desk is overflowing with lists of things to take, and lists of things to do, before my team and I set off.

Outside theres a wind howling, and its started to rain, but our upstairs office is warm. Warm and comfortable and smelling just a little bit of wet dog. My feet arent remotely cold, but if they were Id only have to move them a couple of inches and theyd be cosy and safe beneath a familiar furry body.

Arthur.

Half asleep as he lies under the desk, adjusting his front left paw so its in the perfect, comfortable Arthur-ish position. If I shut my eyes, now or at any time, I can see him in this favourite position. His long body panting gently, his big lion-like head pointing towards me expectantly, and one of his front paws tucked under him as if he were saving it for later. I dont have to look below the desk to know what hes doing. I can hear from the snuffle and the sigh of contentment that hes making himself comfortable for as long as it takes me to do my work.

Helena and the children are asleep downstairs. Its a rare moment of quiet in a house thats usually full of activity and noise. Two-year-old Philippa is perfect and adorable and Id do anything in the world for her, but her thirst for new adventures and new things to play with sometimes means waking up her little brother.

Thor is only three months old, so he cant really be expected to know when its playtime and when its sleep time. Mostly he is beautifully behaved he eats, sleeps, eats, sleeps and thats pretty much it but he can be a bit noisy too. I guess with two people in the house under three, you have to expect noise and a little bit of mess.

But theres a serene presence in the middle of all this, and as I look down below the desk to check on him, Arthur looks up at me with the trusting expression that I never tire of seeing. I scratch his head, just behind his ear. Most of him is a rich golden colour, but his ears through the unique mixture of dog genes that makes up Arthur are a delicate shade of orange. I love these ears, and the way they fly up in the air when hes running fast over the mountains.

But at the moment theres no running; theres just a sleepy contentment. Happy to know that Im safely in his sight, he puts his big head back down on to his paw and closes his eyes.

As I start to make the final preparations for this years championships, I cant help gazing at Arthur in a little bit of wonder. This time last year, I had no idea he even existed. Let alone that he would become a part of me, a part of our family. I started thinking of how extraordinary it is that we are here together, despite all the odds having been so stacked against us...

rnskldsvik, 1993

No, not you, Mikael. Youre out. Not good enough.

I stopped in the middle of tying up my hockey skates and looked up at my coach aghast.

You can stay if you like, he went on. But I wont be letting you play. I suggest you pack your things and say goodbye.

He turned away from me, walked out of the locker room and moved out to the ice to talk to the rest of the team. He led three of them on to the rink and started directing them in a new training exercise. As he sped off, he looked like he was completely unaware of the hammer blow hed just dealt me.

It felt like my insides had turned to water. Not. In. The. Team. I was seventeen years old, and being in the ice hockey team was pretty much all Id ever wanted, all Id been aiming for and training for these past five years. I hadnt missed a single training session, Id done everything that had been asked of me. I did my very best, trained off-season and extra on rest days. I put all my energy, everything I had into it.

The words not good enough seemed to echo around the skating arena. I bent down to put my gear back in my bag, not wanting anyone to see the expression on my face. When Id packed everything away, I looked at my teammates. I didnt know it then but it would be more than twenty years before I entered that locker room again.

As they went off to start the training session, it seemed to be business as usual for them. Nobody realised that something in Mikael Lindnord had just died a little.

For anyone born and brought up in rnskldsvik, northern Sweden, ice hockey was pretty much the holy grail of what you could do. In fact, it was the holy grail wherever you were born in Sweden. Our country is unusual in this respect: you can be mediocre at anything, thats fine, mediocre is fine. But if theres one thing you should really, really excel at it is hockey. Thats the sport that more than any other even soccer, even orienteering and skiing commands respect.

Ever since I was a small boy I put my heart and soul into sport. Im not a natural talent, but I have always loved sports and been super-competitive. Years before, when I was only about ten, I was at a volleyball practice at school. It was only a practice, the score didnt really matter as such, yet when the coach called the ball out because he said it had hit the roof, I hit the roof too. I was sure the ball was still in play and I wouldnt accept his call. I must have been infuriating to teach at that age, but I was simply determined to win. Even in a practice session.

I guess the coaches could see the determination, and the effort, but in the end they didnt see enough skill.