Woodsong

Storm is one of Paulsen’s first sled dogs and one of his favorites. During the race, the dog suffers internal bleeding from the dry food the author gives him, and blood squirts from his body, so Paulsen ties him onto the sled. However, Storm wriggles to the ground and continues to pull with the team. Storm’s unbending determination to work as part of the pack opens Paulsen’s eyes to the depth of a sled dog’s sense of purpose: “Storm taught me. His blood taught me” (11). Storm plays tricks on Paulsen, and he uses a stick to communicate, keeping it in his mouth when all is well and dropping it when there are problems with the sled team. Even in old age, the dog teaches the author about what’s important to dogs. On the day his life ebbs away, his chain caught around his doghouse, and Storm tries valiantly to claw his way around so he can face east, something dogs and other animals often do when they die. Storm represents the author’s ideal character blend: wisdom, intelligence, humor, and determination.

The author’s best lead dog, Cookie is with him early on when he doesn’t know what he’s doing and makes bad mistakes with the team; she also leads his dogs across the finish line at the Iditarod race. Cookie is smart and sensible, the epitome of a good leader who, like most sled leaders, knows the trail better than a human. She teaches him a lesson when he forces her to go the wrong way: She obligingly leads the team off a cliff. As with Storm, the author learns important lessons from Cookie, who embodies intelligence with gentleness and a quiet refusal to be pushed around.

One of the lead dogs, Wilson, “is very sweet and a wonderful dog but dumber than a walnut” (107), and he sometimes leads the team off course. He also tends to fall asleep while running. During the Iditarod race, his primary purpose is to let Cookie, the best leader, rest up. In the book, he serves as a bit of comic relief in a story that’s relentless in its intensity.

An early lead dog, Obeah, saves the author’s life when he falls, injured, from the sled and the dog leads his team back to recover him. Obeah teaches Paulsen an important lesson about the wisdom of animals—that they have many sides and care about each other and their people.

Fred is a half-Labrador mutt, a house dog who gains 90 pounds from stealing the sled dogs’ food and becomes grouchy and vengeful when placed on a strict diet. Fred serves as one of many examples of domesticated animals who express human traits and sometimes revert to their ancestral wild nature. Fred’s stubborn defiance teaches a lesson about the foolishness of human arrogance and the vital spirit of all creatures, great and small. 

Hawk is a banty hen who guards her broods ferociously against all threats. She perches atop a woodpile, watching the yard, and flies down to strike at any person or animal whom she deems has gotten too close to her chicks. Hawk is an example of how creatures sometimes can behave as if they’re crazy. She’s yet another sign of the remarkable variety in animal personalities and that many creatures have more traits commonly thought of as human than people realize.

Unnamed—the author protects his family’s privacy—Paulsen’s wife (probably his third, illustrator Ruth White) appears here and there in the book, a friendly but somewhat vague presence. At the story’s end, she calls out to Paulsen, which snaps him out of his insane decision to turn back just before crossing the finish line. At the finish, the author hugs her first, before anyone else or the dogs; unsaid is the quiet understanding that she’s critically important to him.