Laurian Northern Inuit

 The best way I can explain about these wonderful dogs is to tell you all as it happened to me......

Sometime in the recent past, I realised that Barney, my old and very dear cross breed, was mortal who would, one day be given the key to access the Rainbow Bridge and beyond. It was because of this I decided that the time was right to get a puppy to befriend him, learn his ways and get that most important of knowledge, living with humans. But what breed? 
Well! I have to take you back in time to an after dinner conversation with my extended family, friends and friends of friends which focused on Northumbrian tales of old lore. 
It raised issues of wolf and hunter becoming one and stories that carried throughout the ages, which reverberated to the sounds and smells of the 'wolf'. 
It was during these conversations that one companion mentioned a colleague of his who had a timber wolf. awesome! It had us all baying and howling for all we were worth. This encouraged an ephemeral holiday to Canada, renowned for its indigenous race of Inuit (Eskimos) but more particularly for me. their dogs. 
Whilst in Toronto experienced a Homeric moment as I peered into the offerings of a small, non-descript shop lost in a huge mall. There it was; a wolf's face with mesmeric eyes encircled by a dream catcher, all perfectly woven into an autumnal coloured tapestry. Could I, the notorious Miss Skinflint, justify such a purchase? It descended me into a dilemma of catch 22 proportions. Caught between the desire to always save money for rainy days and the want of that tapestry. 
I forbid you the opportunity to wallow and enjoy in my demise on this momentous occasion however, after much pondering and moving on, then back again the decision was made.
       BREAKING NEWS, BREAKING NEWS, BREAKING NEWS, BREAKING NEWS. 
'Be pleased to inform her Majesty, The Queen and the Royal Treasury that Miss Skinflint has given some of her doubloons in return for the tapestry. cough! Seriously though, it took me on that first step of choosing my dog. 
Returning home brought me into discussions with all manner of folk regarding the wolf and dogs that had the appearance of wolves but domesticated. The trail had me rent a cottage in the Highlands allowing a visit to the Wolf Pack at Kingussie-the blood was up on seeing these un-necessarily feared animals. The warden explained the hierarchy, which was demonstrated at its best when feeding began. They displayed a raw edge to how far our domesticated dogs had come in their development in becoming man's best friend. 
Through the vibrant and vivid colours of autumn through the cold darkness of winter the QWERTY buttons were beaten into submission as I kept up the relentless search inside the World Wide Web for clues, direction, signposts and links for the wolf and its look alikes. It was then, by Sherlock intuition, (don't laugh I suit a deer stalker) made contact with the Northern Inuit Society who I'd found refreshingly honest as to the breed, history and its intentions. 
I was particularly taken by the early history whereby the Inuit hunter wanted a domesticated dog with tenacity, strength and capacity to deal with the seriously low temperatures of Northern Canada. 
Many decades ago the Inuit had an idea whereby they staked out their bitches when in heat and allowed them to be mated with the wolf. Culling out the bad and further mating with the good continued until they achieved a breed standard of their choosing and desire, the Northern Inuit. 
I had many conversations with members of the Northern Inuit Society (NIS) on the internet where trust unfolded with an acceptance of the Society and all it stood for leading to an invitation for its first show at the beautiful backdrop of Alexander Park, Oldham. It was there I saw and met 'Poco' a handsome Northern Inuit, champion of many competitions, there followed a lot of pow-ing and wow-ing with Lynne, his owner. From this catalyst the seed was sewn, there and then, for a pup.  I was also able to introduce myself to the President, we too pow-wowed for some time in the exchange of knowledge. As the curtain came down on the show it was the signal for an exhilarated me to make my way home and bring into affect a new project. 
There was a need to prepare for my new puppy, yet to be born. My garden, which goes on as far as the eye can see (sorry, exaggerating) with hedging that comprised of firs, laurels, rowan etc, all had potential openings for the escape of a daring and dashing Inuit. 
The 'Colditz Project' began in earnest with the hedging replaced by concrete posts, panels and fencing. My friends frowned on my notion of watchtowers, searchlights and electrification, albeit my knowledge of the Inuit and its ability to dig had thoughts on tunnels, Tom, Dick and Harry being excavated, ready for the 'Great Escape'. 
The task took months in removing the all the shrubs, laurels and my soul.  I was now ready to embrace the Northern Inuit properly as a phone call had informed me that Nacomba had given birth to a litter of pups with Poco the proud father, unfortunately they were all bitches (Zuni, Saskia, Brodie and Tanika) and I had so wanted a dog. 
How strange self-regulation can be changed, manipulated and managed to encompass the need, the need to keep hot on the trail of choosing my next best friend. 
Of course I made the visit, of course I would take a bitch, of course I was more than won over handling these bonnie puppies, the only problem was which one? This could be difficult as at one stage I had three bundles of fluff in my arms and had a vision that I would return home with a ready-made wolf pack, or should I say a pouch of pups.  It was a week later when I and that decision would travel to Manchester to collect my puppy, but which one would return with. Oh! The dilemma of it all? 
Brodie came home in the February of 05 where she belonged to begin a happy contented life, not without incident, alarm or fun.  I did not realise Brodie was such a horticulturist changing the landscape of my garden from a rolling country cottage style to a futuristic lunar landscape - I intend to exhibit at the Royal Chelsea Flower Show next year having sold my rusting forks and spades on E-Bay. And yes it's in the family; Tikaani is also a perfectionist gardener. 
Tikaani? I hear you say. NI owners will always tell you one dog is never enough. 
 In the fullness of time I took my chance to show Brodie at the NIS show at the Alexander Park in Oldham and booked my place on the premier campsite in the hills of Saddleworth Moor overlooking Oldham. It had everything a classic novel would have wanted. fresh air, panoramic views and a place where the story could over-dose on warmth and hearty kindred spirit. Oh! I forgot to mention the 'Bog' with its rejuvenating qualities of a face pack for the dogs.might market that one-day. Then Brodie, with a mouthful of turkey feathers whose eyes were in denial that she had done anything bad and a prize turkey gobbling for all it was worth at my dog. 
The ambience created by the members was memorable as I sat back and soaked up the atmosphere and watched, in amazement, as a large blue van driven by Sue and navigated by the President Julie saw a miracle unfold as it parked up. 
When the roller shutters went up, it was of Tardis proportions inside, well! Everyone was stunned by the effect as the 'Wild Bunch' cascaded out of the Time Machine to run free on the moor. 
It took me back to the time I was panning for gold in the Yukon, this wave of excited Inuit legs and tails came bounding out onto the moor making it their own with the bog a favourite watering hole.  This was the first time I witnessed a large number of dogs mingling together without incident and emphasising the unique nature of this special breed. 
The Sunday fulfilled all my ambition of showing my Brodie in the Northern Inuit Society Show' at Oldham, Brodie was confined to quarters.fancy being a bitch in season on such a momentous occasion. This was, very definitely, not the winning, but the taking part kind of day. That evening Brodie met her beau and it was love at first sight. It was not as romantic as the Lady and the Tramp sharing spaghetti courteous of Tony but certainly more earthy with Brodie and Ammik, a champion, romping the moor and under the full moon (sorry I'm exaggerating again) tied the knot by the bog. of all things. 
The deed was done and it would not be long before eight puppies would descend on my household to create chaos and pandemonium, the like of which I'd never seen before and as for Brodie, well, she turned out to be the perfect mum and in the passing of dear Barney became my next best friend. 
There you have it, the trail of the Northern Inuit Dog as it happened to me. Of course I had to keep a pup, and was won over by Tikaani, the only one out of the litter to look exactly like his mum. I now breed these beautiful dogs and feel blessed the day I discovered such a fantastic rare breed of dog, inside and out.
       The End for now..........