Before leaving the Denali region, we stopped for a Husky Homestead tour. It would have been a five-minute drive, but we got held up by road construction coming out of our campsite. It was one of those we're-not-in-New-York-anymore moments. In Alaska, it's not weird if they keep you at a complete standstill for up to 20 minutes or more.

We left ourselves what we thought was plenty of time. These places usually suggest you arrive 15-30 minutes early and claim to be unforgiving if you miss the window.

Brittons are rarely late, but we were no match for these forces. We rolled in for our tour at exactly 10:00, stressed and irritable, and woefully under-caffeinated.

What's the cure for that? Puppies, apparently. They handed us two as soon as we walked on site, and it took the edge off. Even the hard-to-please sixteen-year-old was all smiles. Sadly, we didn't have a chance to linger. The puppies were retrieved, and the presentation started soon after.

Jeff King, four-time Iditarod champion, and his staff showed off some of their doggie parlor tricks. These dogs LOVE to play/work and they go WILD every time their handlers are looking for "volunteers." These are NOT the dogs you'd want in your living room. But, if you live in Alaska, have tons of space, and need to travel long distances over rough, snowy terrain, they'd be the "pets" for you.

Jeff King is a top breeder and sells his B-team for big bucks. Much to his chagrin, he's been beaten by his own dogs.

8 weeks old.

12 weeks old.

Jeff King, feeling the love.

Reuben (from the sandwich litter), an adult sled-racer.

The doggie hamster wheel.

Typical Iditarod racing attire.

A puppy who did as he pleased (the hamster wheel wasn't for him).

More puppies at the end (but not quite enough to please my brood).