‘Apollo’ was a tall, black husky in my yard of 18 sled dogs when we lived in Thunder Bay, Ont. He was dominant, and took his job of marking very seriously. He was the only dog I’ve known to pile his excrement into impressive towers so high they toppled over with a thud when kicked. Apollo would do this with great pleasure everywhere he could, and usually while I wasn’t looking. On top of his overturned dog dish, or on the back bumper of the truck. This unique display of possessiveness happened on a regular basis but I was always surprised by his flair for the dramatic. “What the… Apollo, how the heck?”

On one unfortunate occasion, he had marked the side of the trail with a steaming pile of doo. We were about to give a dogsled ride to my neighbour, Lisa, who sold Mary Kay cosmetics for a living. I was showing her how much fun this was and hitched up eight dogs for extra power. “Okay, keep your hands and feet inside the basket… all set? Ready guys? Let’s go!”

The start did not go well and we ended up dragging down the trail for 50 metres on our side before I could get everyone to stop. I could hear the muffled screaming of Lisa as we plowed snow. “Whoa! Whoa there Apollo!” I yelled while frantically hanging on and pushing down on the brake. We finally jerked to a halt and I ran to dig out my passenger.

“Are you okay, Lisa?” I bent down to pick up the sled. “Oh, you’ve got some… in your hair there, um, it’s in your ear… You might want to… Let me brush this off your lap… Wow, that’s ripe, eh?” She never did come out with us again.

In the yard, Apollo would hang icy yellow curtains in the doorway of his doghouse. He also played a game on his overturned dog dish. He would erect a tower, then urinate on it. It would freeze into a standing ‘poopsicle.’ When I came along with my shovel, Apollo watched with a mischievous grin as frozen chips flew by my head while I tried to knock it off.

One day, I briefly forgot about Apollo’s twisted sense of humour. He caught me in an awkward moment – demonstrating to a grade six class how to harness a sled dog. I was using a polite little female named ‘Soho,’ but failed to notice she was tied to the truck next to Apollo. I had just put the harness over her head when everyone started to laugh. Suddenly, I felt warmth in my left mukluk. “Apollo!” I said. Too late. He had a captive audience and flashed me a look of true comic genius.

Apollo marked every important item in his world. Since this included me, I just wished he had some other way to show his affection. But as I chipped away at his latest masterpiece, I had to join him in smiling. No one could give an ode to the turd like Apollo.