First impressions of my Eskimo village

---

My family recently moved back up to Alaska to a little 306-person village on the Bering Sea, just across the Bering Strait from Russia.
There is a small clinic in the village, where my mom works.

One day, a musher pulled by several sled dogs ran past the clinic entrance, just two feet in front of the stairs. A small black puppy was sitting at the foot of the steps. For who-know-what reason, one of the sled dogs bit the puppy in the stomach. The other dogs smelled the blood and went in for the kill, leaving a shredded, mauled puppy laying in the snow.

A little Eskimo girl came over and drug the tiny body around the corner of the clinic, leaving a trail of blood in the snow.

---