The Scream

The scream.

That “something hurts, I’m scared, help me” scream.


Our morning started off normally – let outside a little before six for some wrestling and playing time inside Sibe Quentin before breakfast is served at 7. Hu-Dad uses that time to read his newspaper (via an iPad).

It is quiet time. Well, Siberian Huskies wrestling on the porch quiet, which is roughly the same decibel level as a cattle stampede. Wrestling is interrupted periodically with Sibernacle Choir practice. But,somehow, all of that is normal background noise to the Hu-Dad so he can read.

And that is when he heard the scream.

all fun and games

It’s all fun and games until someone screams.

Quick background.

We Siberian Huskies are tough dogs. We pull sleds. Wrestle in a way that absolutely horrifies most other breeds. Perform running body checks that hockey players only wish they could do. Crash into each other at full speed during full-yard zoomies – a Siberian Demolition Derby.

At the same time, we can be total wimps.

A couple of months ago, Typhoon had to have a quick blood draw at the vet – no other work. It was a quiet morning at the vet’s office and Hu-Dad waited out front while Typhoon confidently waltzed to the back.

All went well until someone touched his paw. Oh, no, the needle wasn’t really a problem. But the paw? The paw?

The screams could be heard blocks away. The waiting room hushed, all eyes staring at the door to the back.

A few minutes later, Typhoon trotted back out – a bandage on not one, but two legs (we can also put rodeo horses to shame with our bucking abilities).

And he was smiling like it was the best day ever.

get back to me

Can we get back to the part about me?

The scream.

Hu-Dad scrambled for the deck where we hang out before breakfast. Now, we could say Hu-Dad is normally a little slow, but that would be like saying the Atlantic Ocean is normally a little wet. Yesterday, he was faster than a speeding hairball, able to leap couches in a single bound. Yes, he was Super Hu-Dad and he reached the porch in record time.

Typhoon was standing wide-eyed with a “I didn’t mean to” look on his face.

And Cheoah was screaming.

Did I break my sister?

Did I break my sister?


Ok, so drawing blood can be a little traumatic and you might still not understand what can make us scream. Another Typhoon story (as he is the master of the Siberian Death Scream).

During our most recent beach vacation, we were doing one of our thrice daily walks. As always happens, people stopped us to chat and Hu-Dad was not paying attention. At that moment, pure evil reached out and grabbed Typhoon.

To be slightly more descriptive, the leash wrapped around his leg. Yes, let’s repeat that. The leash dared to actually circle his leg. Loosely.

The resulting scream had campers scrambling for cover. Ranger SWAT teams were formed to rescue hostages. Homeland Security was alerted.

Hu-dad reached down, unwrapped the leash, and the screaming stopped.

On the bright side, we did find a creative way to stop a chat and get back to walking.

evil leash

That leash was evil, attacking me like that.

Had Typhoon broken his sister yet again (Yes, he is still blamed for that minor TPLO surgery last fall)? A wrestling move gone wrong? A body slam a little too hard?

Not exactly.

Cheoah had her paw trapped in the crate. Ok, trapped might be a little extreme when the gap was about three times the size of her paw, but to her it was trapped. She had apparently caught the paw trying to exit the crate (yes, they were wrestling in her crate) and kept trying to exit rather than back up and easily get free.

Hu-Dad reached down and guided her paw out of the gap. The screaming stopped. A quick check and no damage was done. Everyone was in great shape.

To celebrate, Typhoon grabbed Cheoah by the neck and slammed her into a wall. Cheoah chomped on his leg, flipped him so that he crashed to the deck floor with a loud thud. They both jumped up with a ” was that ever fun” grin.

Just like the rough, tough sled dogs that we are.

back to normal

Back to normal


  1. John on June 6, 2015 at 4:58 pm

    Yes, it’s all true. Another sound I dread is the some-strange-animal-is-trespassing-in-the-yard-and-I’m-gonna-kill-it bark. Somehow that strange animal always seems to be a skunk.

  2. Mom, Ice 'n Ebby on June 5, 2015 at 3:12 pm

    Mom sez: I can’t think of too many things more “blood-curdling” than a Siberian “HELP scream”! That’s Ice, at the sight of a hair brush. Glad noSibe was hurt this time. I don’t often feel TOO sorry for Ty, because he DOES most times bring it on himself, but this time, he looks so guilty, even I felt bad for him!

  3. jansfunnyfarm on June 5, 2015 at 2:25 pm

    Glad all are okay. Reminds me of walking Marcus yesterday. Heard Buddy screaming a block away. I rushed home thinking he’d caught his paw in Marcus’ crate again. He was at the back door telling me he had an emergency. Never mind I wasn’t home. But I opened the door. He ran outside, took a pee and the emergency was over.

  4. KJ Pierson on June 5, 2015 at 1:29 pm

    Shew, was afraid it was another bad injury. Good to know it wasn’t. Yes the breed that can survive the worst climates on earth, can’t survive a surprise or a minor inconvenience without a death scream that would make Patton, Audie Murphy, and Chesty Puller run in fear together

  5. Juno's mom on June 5, 2015 at 1:28 pm

    My girl thinks a comb is a lethal weapon. Oh the squeals. So I don’t attempt it anymore; just a good blowout at the groomer.

  6. jan on June 5, 2015 at 1:11 pm

    We have seen a lot of YouTubes of Sibes talking, saying “Mama” and “I love you.” But we have never seen one of screaming. You should mount a production.

  7. Amy@GoPetFriendly on June 5, 2015 at 10:16 am

    LOL! These dogs really keep you on your toes! My super powers kick in when ever I hear one of the dogs getting ready to barf. I turn into a ninja – even from a sound sleep – and try to save the rug from yet another stain. =)

  8. GrandmaB on June 5, 2015 at 8:13 am

    Thanks for the literal Laugh Out Loud this morning!! Lot of Love to the herd and their Hu-Dad!

  9. Jennifer T. on June 5, 2015 at 7:34 am

    Just a good old fashion cage match gone slightly wrong. Poor Typhoon and that mean old leash! The horror!

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