A female husky sat beside a box in front of her house. The box's contents were very special, even precious. Everything about it was nothing if not important. Her name was Terry, and inside the box were her pups. There were six, and all of them were romping around, pouncing and nipping and wrestling and generally being puppies. One of them pounced on her brother and clamped her teeth onto his right ear, making him yip in pain. "Terra," Terry said, "let go of Reggie's ear." The pup did, then continued to romp around with the others. They barked and yipped as they played. Terry saw two humans approaching, a little girl and her mother. "Settle down, everyone. Someone's coming."

"Look, mommy, puppies!" said the little girl excitedly. "Can we have one, please?"

"Sure, Tina. Why don't you pick one?"

Tina picked up one of the puppies. The puppy barked and licked her face, making her laugh. "I'll take this one," she said.

Terry smiled as she watched the family walk away. "I guess our kids are growing up," she said in a voice that was bittersweet. She nuzzled her mate, a bloodhound named Rex. He shivered slightly and humphed gruffly.

Terry wasn't at all bothered by his apparent gruffness. She knew that Rex's thin coat made the cold uncomfortable for him. He was a police dog who had been shipped here from somewhere in Louisiana and almost never ventured outdoors unless his nose was needed to track down a lost child or an escaped criminal. And whenever he did go outside, he tended to be irritable. But Terry knew that under his gruff exterior, Rex was really very kind, affectionate and gentle. She nuzzled him again and noticed with some satisfaction that his tail began to wag just a little.

One by one, the pups were taken by eager little boys and girls. Terry's eyes began to mist. She knew Nome was a small enough town that she would be able to keep in touch with her children, but it seemed like just yesterday that they had been tiny, helpless puppies with their eyes and ears still shut. It never gets easier, she told herself. Even after all those years, it's still one of the hardest things to do.

She looked into the box and noticed something was wrong. Four puppies had been taken, but five were gone. Then she saw why. A hole had been scratched in the side of the box just big enough for a pup to squeeze through. She didn't have to check or guess who it was. Toby, she thought with an exasperated sigh. "Rex, would you watch them for a minute? I'll be right back."

"What's wrong?" asked Rex.

"It seems our little Houdini has disappeared. Again."

Rex stood up. "I'll go find him," he said, but Terry stepped into his path.

"Oh, no you don't. You stay here. Ever since you visited the school last week, all the children know you. They'll want the pups more if they know their father is a police dog, especially Nome's best tracker. And a good nose won't be necessary for this case. I know exactly where he is." And with that, Terry took off.

Rex groaned. A chance to get up and move around a bit would have suited him just fine. But he knew Terry was right, and stayed where he was. "The things I do for family," he muttered. Then he smiled and chuckled lightly as another pup in the box was picked up and taken by a jumping little boy.

Terry headed quickly to the lot where Toby liked to play. Sure enough, there he was, standing on a stack of boxes and howling his heart out. With his combination of Terry's husky shape and Rex's coloration, one could actually mistake him from a distance for a wolf cub. But at the moment all Terry noticed was how close he was to the edge, and how unsteady the pile looked. "Toby!" she called. "Get down from there before you hurt yourself! You're supposed to be in the box, not on it!"

Toby stopped howling and just sat there. "I'm not gonna get hurt," he insisted. "I'm practicing." And he lifted his head and let out another howl.

"Toby, please don't howl like that. Humans won't want you if you do that all the time."

"I don't want a human," he said. "I want to be a wolfdog like Balto."

Terry sighed. "I never should have told you about him. Your siblings can simply enjoy a story, but you always have to live it."

"Dad says that stories are supposed to be learned from," Toby pointed out.

Terry shook her head. "Toby, please. You know I just want a good life for you. I lived on the streets for a while once, and it was terrible. I don't want that life for you."

"Your mother's right, son."

Toby and Terry's heads swiveled. "You're supposed to be watching the kids," Terry said.

"I have been; they've all found homes. Except him," he said, looking up at his son. "Toby, you'd do yourself good to listen to your mother. I've seen what street life does to a dog, and it ain't pretty."

"I don't wanna live on the streets either," Toby countered. "I just wanna stay with mom until I'm old enough to handle myself. Then I'll find a spot somewhere on the edge of town, just like Balto and his boat."

Rex scowled. "Toby, I've told you before, you should be a tracker like me. It's a good job and you'll be helping people who really need it. You're practically made for the job. You've got the best nose out of all your brothers and sisters."

Toby shook his head. "I don't want some hand-me-down legacy. I don't want to have my whole life handed to me. That's how Steele had it and look where he ended up."

Before Rex could burst out indignantly about Toby calling tracking a hand-me-down legacy, Terry said, "All right. Toby, if you want to stay with me, I'll make you a deal. I'll let you stay longer if you promise me that when you find a home you're happy with, you'll stay there."

Toby jumped down off the boxes. Like that's ever gonna happen, he thought. "Okay," he said. "It's a deal."

"Now let's go home," said Terry. "It's getting dark."

Rex shook himself. "And there's a storm coming. I can smell it."

Toby didn't want to admit it, but he smelled something in the air too. Ah, who cares? he thought. Balto can smell storms too. He probably smelled this one a month ago.

Later that night, Terry got up. Careful not to wake Toby, she padded out the doggie door, then went over to the police chief's house and slipped in through his dog door. Upon entering, she noticed that the space in front of the hearth was empty. This surprised her, as Rex almost never left that spot unless something of importance came up. So she started wandering the house, searching every room before coming back to where she'd started. "What kept you?" came a playful voice from behind her.

She spun around. "Rex!" she breathed. "You scared me."

Rex chuckled. "Oh, come on. I know I'm not the best-looking dog in Nome, but…"

Terry laughed. "No, no. I mean, you startled me." She walked up to him and they touched noses. "How did you know I'd be coming here at this hour?"

"Because I know you," he said simply. "And because I'm concerned about Toby too." He led her over by the fire so she could warm up while they were talking. "Don't worry, Terry. Everything will be fine, trust me."

"When will he come to his senses, Rex?"

He looked her in the eye. "Terry, I'm not sure that he hasn't already. He's right about one thing, though: Having everything hand-fed to you is no way to live."

"Rex!" Terry exclaimed. "Don't you want a good life for him?"

"Of course. It's the only thing I want for him. But in the meantime, a little challenge will be good for him. When the time comes, he'll find his place."

Terry's ears slid down, and she rested her head on Rex's shoulder. "But what if he doesn't?"

Rex nuzzled her gently to calm her. "Then his place will find him," he said. "We just have to make sure he gets by until then and doesn't get into too much trouble."

Terry pulled back and looked into his eyes, with worry emanating from hers. "Do you really believe that?"

"Absolutely. Kids have a way of rising to the occasion. Especially when they get the right help." He walked her to the door. "Now, you'd best get home before he wakes up and decides to get into mischief."