Kohl. Call. Col. Whatever, he can neither read nor write. Call is my lead dog, I am told by Gilles and with whom I guide Aventuraid. Two years since we work together. At first I had associated with his brother Kiff. They formed with Keffi Kawa and a team of four brothers, driving efficient, energetic, but dropped me Kiff. The work on the sled head was too demanding, too stressful. And neither he, nor call, not taking their responsibilities. So after a few weeks of depression, Kiff has finally found his place behind Call and became my lead dog.
Keffi and was found associated with Kameroun. Four northern bastards, four wonderful dogs who mashk associated with, the baby of the year, a team formed in 2010 incredibly colorful and enthusiastic.
To Call, the wood is Viet Nam. An important commitment, stressful, demanding, but also a world where he is irreplaceable. He drives the sled after him the whole caravan of mushers and dogs involved in the area. It is he who sets the pace, he will find ways. More than any other, it reigns over my mood. I owe my happiness, I owe him my troubles. So to call the return to life at the kennel is synonymous with rest, but also of normality. At the beginning of winter 2010, it surprises me to lag behind when going home. When he feels that is engaged on the way back, it looks for alternatives. Another path open to us, he tried. I do not know whether he will keep that spirit throughout the winter, but I see him so combative. Last week we left the camp trapper, David Lake, to get to the Hut of Trout Lake trail through the ridges. The day was beautiful. I, European immigration, I guided a family of Quebecers themselves immigrants New Brinswick and waiting for a fresh start to the antipodes. The weather was not cold, sunny, perfect for embarking on this demanding track.
We have only the first part of the track, the second has not yet been opened. Shortly after leaving the lake Phiran, we mark a trail trap to win the lake trout. In the middle of the road that Call has set foot on a snare hare lying on the road. The owner of the collar typically installed away from the road, this one came under the leg of my dog. Panic, both for the dog to me. I held the line stroke with one hand, the leg of another dog, so I had to be assisted by Maude, eldest daughter of the family, to clinch the crown. More fear than harm, in the end.
All this reminded me of another story told Gilles, about Belle, a bitch that I knew when I arrived in Aventuraid. A fearful dog and a little painful. Regularly, he sometimes knitting big knot in the line of respect by wanting to fight with her neighbors in front or behind. That day, Gilles was sent walking. She watched, detached, the group sled, ferreting right, left. And then she disappeared. Gilles was in vain to call, without success. The dog was still missing.
the days passed, with no trace of the bitch, until a neighbor trapper called to say he had trapped a strange wolf. Fearful, the dog was lying down when she felt the collar will tighten around his neck. Then she no longer moved. The trapper, who knew the wolves did not let abused. He recognized the dog and its owner tried.
These two stories show that trapping and sled are not necessarily compatible, and these two activities are not necessarily incompatible either. And if I would have good reason to be against the door, I also understand his interest and pleasure associated with this activity. In our trappers are still numerous, a part of our territory is located in the same trap Indian reservation. The hatch, called sequestration in Europe, remains an art, in the sense that the success of the activity involves experience and knowledge of wildlife. It is also a means of environmental control of species. New Zealand National Parks officers frequently trappent foxes and weasels that threaten populations of kiwis, Wekas of Kakas and all species threatened by the invasion of predators hair from Europe or America.
However, the trap can earn the title of art, it has to be practiced with any ethical restraint required. Household endangered species, regularly visit the lines to spare the prey a long agony, to protect other land users, those with two legs and those, like Call on all fours. And then he
is also the question of the equipment used. Some collars, bearing retainers, can target their prey and to save others. Call would have liked him also that the neck is fitted with a stopper, perhaps he would have been less painful. Fortunately, such accidents are still rare. Trappers who use our trail, and those we frequent the trail, generally well anticipate these situations. We are after all not so many wood, every grain of dust in the great boreal forest, and to each other and know the necessity of coexistence. 
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