24 and 56… miles between the sticks,
his team had done it times six.
80 miles of barren waste,
freezing wind upon your face.
Sometimes it was so cold,
it tested the bravest of souls.
When Jim had those thoughts,
like magic Jack would look back.
Jack was the leader of the dog pack,
with a howl he would turn and attack.
For him there was no option to fail,
he pulled harder against the trail.
They carried the mail to the bold,
those men who mined the gold.
A heavy sled with bags of mail,
they would deliver or die on this trail.
Like the riders of the Pony Express,
every run was another test.
Of men and dogs with fortitude,
they fought to live, with attitude.
It didn’t matter about the pay,
they just tried to see another day.
This is how the bonds were formed,
man and dogs, and freezing storms.
In the lands of endless winter,
love of dogs would never splinter.
This is one is your best, I think