Putting the Dogs in Line
- skyecurrie0307
- Sep 22
- 3 min read
Personal experience of getting the teams ready as a Handler.
Every kennel has its own system for putting dogs in line. Some put males in first and females last, to reduce the risk of accidental pregnancies. Others start with the calm dogs and leave the “problem” dogs until last. At our kennel, we lined the boys up from back to front, then the girls. This not only kept them separate, but also prevented the lead dogs from turning around to watch us harness the dogs at the rear.

The teams were decided each morning, with all the names and harness sizes written on a whiteboard so everyone knew who was going where. There were two “runways,” meaning two groups of sleds could go out at the same time. Getting all the dogs into line was one of my least favourite parts of the day. My heart rate spiked every time -
watching dozens of barking, lunging, excited dogs until they finally left for the trail was exhausting.
And then there were the chewers. Monsoon, Peku, Liam - and about fifteen others - seemed determined to chew through everything: their harnesses, the lines in front of them, even my pants if I stood too close. My job was to watch the line (sometimes up to 80 dogs at once) to make sure no one chewed and no one fought. Of course, calm and quiet weren’t words that described our kennel at this stage. As soon as the dogs saw us walking toward them with a harness in hand, the barking was non-stop. Even the dogs not running that day would throw a fit, jumping up and down as if to say, “Leroy got chosen? LEROY? What about me?”
Despite the chaos, there’s a clear structure to every team:
Command leaders are the dogs at the very front of a guide sled. They’re the smartest, most patient, and problem-solving dogs, trained over years to understand directions like “haw” and “gee” (or “vänster” and “höger” if they’re Norwegian, like Sorken or Koyuk). A younger dog is often paired with a veteran until they learn the role. Martin always wanted Aila and Schlumpf; Nat preferred Holli and Jergul.
Follow leaders head the guest sleds behind the guide team. They don’t need to know commands but must be patient and focused enough not to spin the team around if the sled stops. Not every dog could handle that role (for example, Hasse is deaf. He wouldn't stand a chance).
Team dogs run in the middle. Their job is simple: pull.
Wheel dogs are at the very back, closest to the sled. They’re usually the strongest, since they bear the most weight at the start. Some wear nansen-stick harnesses, which help spread the weight more evenly.

Even with a careful system, tensions sometimes boiled over. Kennel-mates might snap, or resource-guarding might kick in. The signs of an oncoming fight were always the same: teeth bared, snapping at each other, tails no longer wagging. I had to tear Snoben and Chase apart once when they went for each other in line. Blood spurted from Snoben’s nose with every exhale. He was okay, but we kept him out of runs for a few days afterward.
Certain dogs just couldn’t run together, or even near each other. Tina hated females, so she lived with Bob and only ran in all-boy teams. Albus hated males, so he lived with Bubbles and ran in all-girl teams. It was all very meticulous, but necessary to keep the line safe.
And then there were the escape artists. Some, like Drum, would just stand around patiently even if another dog chewed him free. Others, like Lil B, bolted the second you lost your grip. I’ll never forget the day I fumbled his harness - he shot out of the kennel before I could even call for Martin. My face burned with embarrassment and fear that he was gone forever. Luckily, after a minute, Lil B came trotting back. Martin teased me about that one for a while.



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