Sweet Dreams at Echo Pines Road

Happy 2006! Our little family (sans the kitties) drove up to Mount Desert Island of Acadia National Park in Maine to spend the holiday week in a cottage. We rented a cozy little place called Echo Lake View Cottage and indeed it had a very nice view of Echo Lake. It was everything we were looking for.

Jeffrey and I were looking forward to a week of rest and relaxation. Riley was no doubtedly thrilled, and relieved, to know that he was going with us. Upon arrival, our gracious hosts greeted us warmly and even brought sweets over to us the next afternoon. It was some of the best desserts I've ever tasted! But the best part was that they loved Riley. Formerly owned by Golden Retrievers, they now had two Papillions whom Jeffrey described as looking like, "Gizmo." We loved that they were dog people.

Riley loved spending every minute of the day with us, with only a few exceptions when we went out to buy groceries and have dinner. We went for scenic hikes in new places everyday. I wondered what he was thinking when we all piled into the car and headed off somewhere. Did he anticipate the excitement of exploring a new place? Or was he just enjoying the moment of being in the car, going somewhere, anywhere with us? Whichever is correct, I will never know. I do know that over this past week, Riley was filled with much excitement and happiness. At night, Riley was always the first to fall asleep (and snore!). Throughout the night, we could hear him stirring in his sleep, paws twitching, body jumping, and best of all, barking. Yes. Riley was having such terrific dreams that he could be heard, "Woo, woo"-ing in his sleep. I laugh out loud just writing this right now. I imagine Riley was dreaming of crashing through the woods, dodging dead branches, digging in the snow, and then stopping in his tracks, listening; and if he heard us cue, "What's that? Who's there?" he would belt out in a series of, "woo, woo, woo, woo, woo's" to appease us. Of course, we laugh everytime and praise him for being such a good boy.

Such a good boy, he is.

Early Signs were Red Flags

We now know that Riley is what many call, an "allergy dog." We also know that he has a sensitive, sometimes hyper-reactive immune system. It has taken me some time to do my research, reading and networking to figure out what is going on with him. What sparked this educational journey were the early, most obvious symptoms.

From the very beginning, Riley itched, and he itched, and he itched. We were feeding him the same food that the BB sent home with us. But his skin flaked, his ears bothered him, and he chewed on his legs. We brought him to his first vet appointment the next day. They called it, "puppy pyoderma" and sent me home with some shampoo and ear cleaner. They were concerned that his coat did not seem healthy and he was a little on the skinny side. We asked about nutritional needs as many large breed dog owners have given us advice. We wanted the opinion of the vet. How do we keep him from growing too fast? What about the high protein diet? What is different about Large Breed Puppy Food? Why do some people switch their large breed puppy to adult food early? They confirmed we were doing the right thing feeding Iams, Large Breed puppy food.

So I went home and bathed Riley every other day. The poor thing, talk about trauma in the first week! I called the BB and she said it could have been some irritation from the bath he received before he left Germany. She said she would ask her "folks at home" and get back to me. But she didn't have any answers and Riley's skin got worse. She told me to go to my vet for help. It looked like a hundred little scabs all over his body. He had scratched his ears bloody and was chewing on his abdomen. He couldn't sleep at all at night. So a week after our first vet visit, we went back. This time, they told me I was bathing him too much and not drying him thoroughly. So they sent me home with another bottle of more gentle puppy shampoo. I also had to watch them take a razor blade and scrape through the white blaze of his forehead, down to a scab on his skin, and through the skin. Riley cried. It was horrifying. But back then, just two years ago, I was a "laissez-faire" pet owner who let the vet do whatever they thought was right while I quietly sat to the side. And $160 later, nothing changed.

Things continued to worsen. Riley never slept through the night. We had to move him out of the bedroom because everytime he scratched an itch, he rattled the crate. I cleaned his ears three times a day. I tried to apply neosporin to his scabs. Meanwhile, the scraping from the vet revealed nothing.

Then I made the biggest mistake of Riley's puppyhood. I switched to a local vet whom I knew nothing about. At least Riley's first vet I had know for several years from bringing our two cats there. They were decent practitioners. I remember once when I brought one of the cats in for her vaccination boosters. When I told them she had peed in the crate on the way over, they not only took a good 15 minutes to clean her up, but also urged me to take her home without the vaccination. They did not recommend vaccinating an animal that was under that kind of stress. At that time, I was actually annoyed at them. I had purposely traveled into the city, found parking and lugged her in there. And now they were telling me this is not a good time to vaccinate her? Well, I now appreciate how lucky I was.

I found a vet that was down the street from us. Close, convenient, sounds good to me. I should have known from the very beginning. The vet came out and mistaken Riley for an Australian Shepard. Certainly they may appear quite similar to the average person, but a vet? Again, I brushed it off and brought him into a dingy, unattractive room. What happened in that room, I am ashamed to admit I allowed. I did not protect my baby. I allowed this person to assult him with toxins, regardless of the condition he was already in. She gave him a four in one vaccination, Giardia, and Leptospirosis. I tried to ask questions but she quickly answered them as she was shooting up my baby. She gave a long winded story about how horrible Giardia is and how humans can die from it too. Then she gave him heartworm med and topical Frontline. Applying it as she was explaining what it was for. I now think back and cringe at the thought that pesticides not safe enough for our hands were being smothered on Riley, both inside and out. In the end, I watched her throw the empty vaccination bottles and used syringe into the rusty sink. My heart sank. What is going on? The only thing that was clear from that appointment was that it cost me over $200 and I was never going back.

to be continued...

Winter Hikes

One fringe benefit of having a dog is that they keep you healthy. Not only do they provide companionship and uncontrollable love, but they urge you to take long, scenic walks around areas you typically would not have taken time to enjoy. Riley gets us to explore so many beautiful parks in our area. Last weekend, we went on a local hike in the Blue Hills Reservation. Particularly because it snowed, we felt we had to bring Riley out for a proper romp in the snow. You know, the kind that leaves him sprawled out in the back seat afterwards.

The city is transformed after a big snowing. Every surface is covered in pure whiteness. I love the way it sounds early in the morning, before everyone is up. The city sounds *still*. My hometown being San Diego, this is one event that I cherish about New England: the stillness after a snow. I suppose you would experience this all the time if you lived in Vermont or Maine or something. But living off a busy interesection in Waltham, these quiet moments are rare and precious.

The hike is invigorating. As I look at the woods around me, my perspective on the world changes. Nothing seems troublesome. The thoughts that previously nagged at me (I need to make sure I get this done, don't forget to go here-there, don't forget to call so-and-so back, I need to plan for this, etc) are trivialized and momentarily forgotten. I focus my attention, instead, on where I place each step on the trail. We have never hiked this particular trail sans snow. Therefore, we haven't any idea what the terrain is like - what we are stepping on after we crunch through the thick layer of snow.

I stop frequently to watch how easy it is for Riley. No need for hiking boots - he has built-in traction and 4 wheel drive. No need for the long underwear, scarf, or hat. He doesn't even need to bring a bottle of water; every few minutes he chomps down a few gulps of snow while he waits for us to catch up. I can't help but to smile each and every time I look at him. He cannot stop grinning from ear to ear, and that tail has not stopped since we left the house.

On the way back Riley is invited to romp with a 2 year old Rhodesian Ridgeback. Though taller than Riley, the Ridgeback is clumsy on his young puppy legs. Riley, now 32 months and only 92 pounds, displays his dominance as the older, more coordinated and more experienced wrestler. They mouth wrestle, they body-check, they mount, and eventually Riley does his Berner hip-check maneuver and I know he is getting tired. We say our good-byes and head back to the trail head. Riley follows me closely, plodding along, tired but happy.

And when we return to the car, Riley jumps into the back immediately, circles once, sprawls out, and with one big breath lets out a long sigh. Proper snow-romp: mission accomplished.

Freestyle Demo

Today we went to the Bay Colony Dog Show at the Bayside Expo Center. If you've never been to a dog show, it's quite an experience. This is the second one I've ever been to and the first all indoor one. I felt like a little girl at the circus. So many different kinds of dogs to see, it was excitement everywhere. I went Bernerless but it wasn't long before I acquired a cute little stuffed Berner to carry in my knapsack.

At Ring 14, there were demonstrations going on most of the day. Service dogs, search and rescue, K9 teams, and finally what I came for, the Freestyle demonstration. I spotted a few people I knew from the Nashoba Valley club. I recognized a gentleman sitting at one corner of the ring with a beautiful Berner laying quietly at his feet. We've spoken and talked in passing at several club events we've attended over the years. I walked over to say hello to him and love up his Berner. Then I saw Judy with her OES (Old English Sheepdog), Mick, whom we haven't seen since Mick was a young puppy. He looked fantastically handsome! I spotted a studly little Westie and immediately knew Mimi would be on the other end of his leash. It was wonderful to finally meet her and Brewster. I also got to meet MaryAnn with her Aussie. It is always so nice to finally see the people whom I have chatred with on various lists, but never get to meet. Suddenly, I noticed that several people began showing up in flamingo pink shirts. More and more were arriving with all different breeds of dogs. Eleven people and eleven dogs in total. These were the members of a group who call themselves: Three Left Feet.

Finally it was time for the show to begin. I was so excited. I had a camera ready, hoping to catch some good shots for the club. I was nervous as I know flash photography can be distracting to performers. I anguished over whether or not to stand directly in front of everyone. What if I set the flash off in a dogs eyes and stunned them in the middle of their routine? I didn't want anyone to be upset that I distracted their dog and ruined their concentration. As everyone came out into the ring, it was exciting to see all of them get ready for their first big public show. I had no idea what to expect.
The first number included everyone. It provided each dog/person team to showcase a particular skill. Some of my favorites included Mick's turn-around and Brew's little dance around Mimi's feet. Some dogs were weaving through their people's legs, others were turning in sync with their owners. I was so excited I barely got a picture in.

The next few numbers had smaller groups of sometimes four and one duet with two Aussies. Half the fun was watching the dogs "space-out" at times, staring out into the audience, and then snapping back into the routine. I was able to get a few photos as they transitioned into formations or stopped to pose.


At one point, my husband leaned over to me and asked, "is this hard to do?" I chuckled.
"You go in there and try!" I replied. "You think it's easy to remember all those routines? Plus, those dogs are all listening to their people's instructions, they are not just being pulled around on their leashes!"
I did hear that they are trying to recruite more men...

Three Left Feet (multiplied 11 times), you guys put on a great show.

Favorite things

Riley needs to lose another pound or two. So, okay, he needs to lose about 4-5 pounds. I was recently told that he has love-handles. How embarassing. I felt like someone was telling me I had cellulite. It's so hard not to feed your baby little tidbits of treats all the time. Especially since I am the type of person who grazes all day long, eating multiple times a day. So everytime he sees me put food in my mouth, why not him? When someone tells you your dog is over-weight though, you feel like a bad parent, like you've overindulged your child.

Part of the problem is that I continuously train with Riley. I keep him practicing his tricks, upping the anty, and in order to do this, I have to reward with edibles. Okay, he is actually quite responsive to just a clicker without any food, but I know how much he enjoys his treats, so the blame really just lies with me. Food is love. It's hard.

So tonight he is not getting his regular meal. Typically, he would eat a couple of turkey necks, or chicken backs and ground organs, pork and veggies, or his favorite - a buffalo tail. Tonight, I filled up a kong and let him go to town on it. 30 minutes later, he's still working on it. A kong is a hollow, rubber toy that can be filled with treats. Tonight, I filled it with some of his favorites (and some of his not-so favorite supplements).

Favorites: peanut butter, string cheese, dried liver treats
Supplements: Vit C, Kelp powder, fish oil, apple cider vinegar, crushed pumpkin seeds, and minced carrots

This way, he's getting some psychological stimulation and not feeling as if he's missed a meal. Calories are low (I use just enough peanut butter to hold things in) and palatability is high. Plus he gets all of the good stuff too!

Woofs and licks (as Toby and Lucy would say) to stuffed kongs!

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

How does one know that a Berner adores the snow?

Perhaps it is the way he wakes in the morning, tilting his head to one side as if he can hear the snowflakes falling, and then springs to his feet to run to the nearest window and peer out.

Perhaps it is the way he scratches at the windows and doors, excitedly looking back and forth between his human family and the exits, churtling a special sound.

Perhaps it is the way he points his nose up into the air when he first steps outside, closes his eyes, beckoning the flakes to fall upon his face.

Maybe we know by the way he leaps up in the air, almost clicking his heels together, bucking, and flipping the white stuff with unbridled enthusiasm.

Maybe it is the way he drives his black nose deep down into it, sniffing and snorting, then rubs his muzzle, neck, and chest all around, often ending up with all four paws in the air, rubbing and rolling.

Maybe it is the way he lays flat on one side, swimming his legs in it, making perfect Berner snow angels shapes all over the driveway.

Or perhaps it is the way he will refuse to come inside, on strike, preferring to lay outside, as still as a rock, collecting a veil of whiteness over his soft coat, a perfect black silouette against a pure white canvas.

Coming home

Baby's crib

July 9th, 2003, we planned to bring home our BMD puppy. We had already settled on the name Riley. The way we arranged to pick up our puppy from the BB is now embarrasing for me to publically post, but I feel it is important to remember our mistakes and share them. If only we knew then what we know now.
The BB explained that they were flying in from Germany on a flight that arrived at Logan airport around 9pm. They asked us if we wanted to wait until they got the puppies home, cleaned and settled, and then we could come up the next day to pick him up. Too anxious to wait, we reasoned that perhaps we should come get him home as soon as possible to avoid any additional transitions and adjustments. They agreed and we arranged to drive to a Honey Dew Donuts parking lot by Logan's freight arrival area to wait for them. How shady is that?!! We agreed to pick up our puppy in a parking lot of a donut shop in the middle of the night!

When they arrived, three puppies were crated in the back of their vehicle. It was dark and not easy to see them all. They warned that they did not want to bring the puppies out in the open for too long, as it was windy and they said it is not good for the puppies to be out in the wind for too long. Then they placed a bundle of Berner fluff into my outreached arms. He must have been so scared the poor thing. He squirmed and wriggled in my arms. I tried to turn him around so that I could see his face and confirm the white blaze and sweet face. It did not seem right. He continued to squirm and cry and I tried to put him back into the crate.

I asked, "This is Biene Male A right?" as our original photo was labeled.
Riley's mother's name was Biene. The other male puppy had a different mother, Elke.
(Duh, How many responsible breeders out there ever whelp two litters at the same time?)
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a print out of our puppy's picture. The BBs looked at it and said, "Aye, Biene Male is yours. That is not your puppy."

I was pleased. The first puppy did not seem right in my arms.

When they picked up the next puppy, I looked directly into his face. Yes. This is him. I took him into my arms where he settled calmly. This is our baby. He knows it.

I took Riley into the car, out of the wind, so that he would feel safe. Jeffrey settled up the paperwork, packed up the puppy food, and paid them. The BBs came over to the car window to give us some last minute suggestions on how to get our puppy settled.

"Don't let him sleep anywhere there is a draft."
"He will miss his littermates the first few nights but he should forget about them very soon."
"Here is his Vaccination record your vet will want to see. All of our puppies are vet cleared before they can leave Germany."
"Here is his microchip number and his pedigree."
"You can call and talk to me anytime if you have any questions. He will be alright."

It all seemed legal and official. We drove home, beaming over our new bundle of fur, quickly forgeting how strange and sort of "not right" that experience was.

That first night, we let Riley explore the house which seemed so enormous to a little puppy who barely took more than 2-3 steps at a time. We had set up a small, portable crate in the corner of our bedroom for him. The main crate we purchased for him stayed in the living room, too large to break down and carry up and down the stairs everyday. At the size of it, you'd think we were expecting a 200 pound bear cub to come live with us.

As we acquainted Riley to our bedroom, he whined just a few minutes and settled down. He must have been terrified and exhausted from his ordeal cuz he almost slept until morning that first night. For the next 4 months, we struggled to teach him to sleep through the night. This meant potty breaks every 2-3 hours around the clock with frequent flooding accidents inside the crate.

The picture posted here is cute and so typical of a new parent: we prepared a fleece-lined crate filled with soft plush toys. That lasted about 2 days. When he continuously soaked everything and I had to keep washing the liner and the toys, we went down to just one toy for easy clean up. We learned quickly how dependent he was upon us. He was just a little baby. And our baby was home.

Riley's introduction to Boston

The Esplanade

This photo was taken on Riley's first trip to the Esplanade in Boston. We parked on the other side of Storrow Drive and had to carry him most of the way over to the river. He walked maybe all of 10 steps. We spent the afternoon enjoying the wonderful weather and our new baby. He played, he chewed on grass, he napped. I was like a new mother. I had packed an entire bag full of things for him: a towel to lay on, water bowl, water, chewing bones, a tupperware container of kibble for his mid-day meal, toys, poop baggies, special treats etc. It's funny now that I look back, we acted like first-time parents.

As you see in this photo, he is wearing a chest harness that doubles as a seat belt for the car. This was a great tool for keeping our little one safe in the car as well as an easy way to control him as a puppy on leash. It is something I highly recommend for dogs of all sizes who are not safely crated in cars.

I remember this day very clearly because Riley had an episode of choking. It is a story I often repeat to remind people that dogs can and will choke on anything. This includes sticks, rocks, kibble, bones, etc, whatever. People often point out that this or that is dangerous because of choking hazards (this pertains to human children as well). But in this instance, Riley choked on a piece of kibble. This becomes particularly important as we have become supporters of raw-feeding for our animals, we get criticism all the time that dogs choke on bones. Yes, they can choke on bones, but they could choke on anything, including kibble.

On this particular day, I lay next to Riley and he became interested in the kibble in his bowl. I think we were feeding him puppy Nutro at the time. I picked out some pieces and hid them in the grass for him to find. It was so cute to watch his big clumsy paws try to dig them out. As one piece went in, he sort of stopped moving. A second or two later, he stood up, head down, gagging, but no sound came out at all. He froze up again and then staggered over onto one side. I had been watching him through this entire episode and now decided to jump in. Although not certified in puppy first aid or CPR, without thinking, I picked him up, held him head down, and gave him a quick thrust up his abdomen right under his rib cage. That piece of kibble immediately came flying out. I know very little about canine digestive systems and don't even know if that is where the diaphram is. But it worked. It shook me up and I remained speechless for the next 15 minutes, rerunning the events that just happened in my mind, wondering what would have happened if nothing came out, if Riley lost consiousness, if I even knew where the closest vet was, if we would have been able to race him there in time. There wasn't anything I could do at the moment to make myself feel better. I just made myself a mental note to always keep one eye on Riley. Nothing is foolproof. Nothing is 100% safe. Riley has not ever had a choking episode ever again, but I continue to watch him like a hawk whenever he is eating anything. I never leave him alone, leave the room, leave the house, cuz anything can happen. And it can happen so fast.

Uncontrollable habits

When we first got Riley, we joined the local Bernese Mountain Dog club in our area (www.BMDCNV.org). With a nominal annual membership fee, not only are we informed of several fun gatherings a year for Berners and their people but we received a wealth of educational information regarding health issues, training tips, and of course, access to a network of other Berner people. Membership to the club includes monthly newletters filled with irresistable merchandise, birthday announcements, title brags, upcoming events, and personal letters. Membership also allows you to join the yahoo group and receive daily e-mail from the club members. Topics range from vet recommendations, to brags, to nutrition, and unfortunately, often to sickness. The posts I love to read the most are the ones that devulge how others experience life with their Berner. For example, a recent string of posts were related to the topic of Berners who "counter-surf, " particularly during the holidays. We are lucky that Riley has never learned this clever skill.

The other day, I read a post that I loved. It stuck with me.

A man said to his wife:

"You know how people use the term 'Unconditional love?' Well, Berners have uncontrollable love. They will love you until you can't stand it anymore."

That is how we feel everyday.

Love at first sight

I had spent hours upon hours gazing at this photo of our puppy. I chose him because he had a beautiful white blaze on his forehead and the sweetest face. I fell in love with his crimped ears and perfect cross on his chest. He was waiting in Germany, unaware of the traumatic journey ahead of him, the journey to his new family.

Back then, before Jeffrey and I joined the Bernese Mountain Dog Club of Nashoba Valley (www.BMDCNV.org), we were ignorant PPOs (potential puppy owners). Unfortunately, we thought we were doing everything right and did not truly understand the terms puppy mills, puppy brokers, or backyard breeders. http://bmdcnv.org/puppy/BrokersFlier.pdf We looked through books about dogs, searched on-line, talked to people. I thought I had done my research:

• No pet store puppies as they are bought from puppy mills. These are people who breed dogs soley for the purposes of business. Basically, these are the people who don't care about dogs and just want to make money.
• Find a breeder close by so that we may continue to have a relationship with them throughout our Berner's life.
• Find a puppy that is raised by a family so that it is well socialized.
• Spend time talking to the breeder. I wanted to know that they were willing to spend extra time talking to me and answering my questions.

By the end of June, 2003, we located a "breeder" whom I will call the BB (for Berner Broker) who lived close and had puppies at their house. Although these puppies were spoken for, we could meet them and get a chance to talk to the BB. They invited us to their home to meet their very own Berner and two female puppies that just arrived from Germany. The story we were told was that the family bred BMDs and Greater Swiss Mountain Dogs (Swissies) in Germany. They frequently traveled between Germany and the US and thus they were able to bring Bernese puppies with European blood-lines to the US. We were so blinded by our excitement of having a new puppy, we were unaware of red flags, though now in hindsight, I see them everywhere. But I thought to myself, These people are so personable. We've met their whole family. They obviously know a lot about BMDs and are owners of one themselves. They took care to tell us about the health risks Berners are associated with and what to watch our for. They asked us all the questions we expected a breeder to ask us. They seemed very concerned about the welfare of their puppies and offered their home phone number and cell phone number to reach them with any questions. We went home that day dreaming of holding a bundle of Berner fluff in our arms. We were told to wait for their phone call. They would have more puppies soon. Perhaps a male for us. And indeed, a few days later, that phone call came. Three more puppies were coming. They sent us pictures and we fell in love.

Alas, we were overcome, as the majority of PPOs are, by that single photograph and enticements of this BB. We did not realize whom we were dealing with until well after Riley's first birthday. For now, we were basking in the initial bliss of bringing home our first BMD puppy. We prepared the house, we shopped for all the puppy essentials, we looked into puppy kindergarten classes, we prepared to change our schedules to accomodate him. We thought we were being responsible. After all, we are good people, right?

To Auntie Dory's House

Jeffrey and I are all packed for our Thanksgiving weekend. We are heading to Las Vegas tomorrow morning. This is one of those trips where Riley obviously cannot go with us. It's true, we actually go on vacations without our Berner boy.
Riley is going to Auntie Dory's house while we are gone. He knows something is up. He watched us pack our bags. He watched me pack his overnite bag, food, and treats. It is 8:30 pm and on any other normal night, Riley would be sound asleep by now. Instead, he is curled up on the couch next to Jeffrey, his head in Jeffrey's lap, eyes open. Any second now, we will hear Dory's footsteps coming up our front stairs and he will jump up, throw his head back, and woof at the ceiling. He will be a wriggling puppy again when he sees her. He has known her since he was a puppy and we started taking him to Beaverbrook to play with other dogs.
Beaverbrook is a conservation park on the Watertown/Belmont line. It is a nice neighborhood park that is used for picnics and BBQs in the summertime and used by dog owners all year round. Dogs are unofficially "off leash" here. Riley knows just about every dog that comes to the park but he only has a few "best friends" whom he will engage in wrestling play. We a part of this dog park community. Everyone knows everyone else's dog's name. Some people know other people's names, but not many. There is always someone to walk with and talk about the latest dog park gossip. It is a strange but familiar community culture. I have met a wide array of people here, simply because I must walk my dog.

Dory is owned by a beautiful dog named Agave. Riley is just one month younger than Agave. They are best friends. They absolutely love each other and this is why I don't mind going away without Riley. If he's at Auntie Dory's house, he will be loved and he will constantly be preoccupied by the boundless energy of Agave. (she is part Lab) Dory is a wonderful dog-loving person whom I know would treat any dog as if it were hers. What started out as, I'll take your dog while you are away and next time vice versa, has become a good friendship. I really like our set up. I won't ask someone to just come over to walk him, leaving him to wander in an empty house day and night. I am even hesitant to leave him with semi-familiar people, especially if they have no dogs for him to play with. And I refuse to leave my baby in a kennel. This way, both Agave and Riley always have a second home. So far, it was worked out well for all of us.



Riley and Agave have very different personalities. They are quite complimentary. Riley is more dominant. He will tell Agave when he's had enough or when he gets first dibbs. But Agave has this wonderfully sweet and subtle persistance that refuses to be told no. So most play sessions begin with Riley trying to hoard all of the toys while Agave keeps taking them out one by one. Then Agave may bring a toy up to Riley to invite him to play. If it is tug-a-war toy, they may play for several minutes, often ending up in "lip lock." They may stay in this position, lip to lip, both sets of teeth holding on, maintaining tension, for several minutes. It is quite cute to watch. Most often, Agave gives in to Riley and he takes the toy, with his tail held high, and he goes for a victory lap. Agave most likely just finds another toy and brings it over to him. Riley will drop the first toy to try and take the new one and another tug-a-war ensues. When Riley finally gets bored of this game, he refuses to take the toy in his mouth. Agave has a very cute way of dangling the toy in his face and will even try to shove it into his mouth. She can go on almost all day long. Riley, on the other hand, is exhausted by her energy. Whenever he gets home from his sleepovers at Auntie Dory's house, Riley sleeps almost for an entire day in order to recooperate.
What is it people always say? A tired dog is a happy dog. How true.

Who is the BMD?

When we returned from our Acadia vacation we began researching the breed. They are one of four Swiss breeds and their name is taken from the canton of Bern in the central farmlands of Switzerland.
Near the end of the 19th century, the breed was nearly extinct.
www.puppydogweb.com/caninebreeds/bernesemtn.htm
www.bmdca.org/pages/BMD_Standard.php
Over the next year, we kept the image of the Berner in our minds. I wanted in every way for this breed's characteristics to meet our lifestyle and personalities. Loyal, sensitive, intelligent, etc. We even took on-line tests to determine which breed fit our personality best. It never came up Bernese Mountain Dog. But I always felt, "this is the dog for us." We found a wealth of websites about the breed and tried to read everything we could find on how to raise a puppy, training classes, housebreaking, health issues, etc. We printed information, we read, and we called to talk to people.
In February of 2003, Jeffrey and I bought our own townhouse. Being the first owners of one of six townhouses, we grandfathered into the condo association laws to allow dogs. We just didn't specify the size of the dog. Now it was set. We owned our own place. We were ready for our puppy.

Discovering the BMD

We met our first Berner in Acadia National Park in 2002. Jeffrey and I were just reaching the summit of a hike. I spotted this beautiful and handsome dog in front of us with a group of people. I am always on the lookout for dogs everywhere I go and I did not know this breed. I instantly loved the distinctive tri-color markings: black, white, and rust. This dog's tail looked like a great flag that waved proudly in the air. He was calm, sweet, and protective. I went right up to these people, hearing them speak French, and asked them the breed the dog.
"Bernese Mountain Dog."
"Oh! He is beautiful!" I lushed.
"Yes, they are wonderful dogs."
I continued to stare at the handsome boy as they went on their way. To this day, I remember the image of that dog standing on top of that mountain. But I can't remember the name of that mountain or what that view looked like...