Why I live in the SOUTH

I remember thinking the same thing. I have at least one copy of every book Jack London wrote. The Call of the Wild is by far my favorite.

The two that really stick in my mind are To Build a Fire (I think it's a short story), and another one who's title escapes me, but he was on a ship that got stuck in ice and had to walk out, came across a bird nest and popped the chicks in his mouth still alive because he was so hungry. In To Build a Fire he walked from one town in the Klondike to another and used spit to gage the temp. I think it was something like -30 spit cracked when it hit the ground, and -40 it crackled in the air? Freakin' nuts.


BUt, yeah, my first dogs name was Buck because of that book.