Meeting Bernie

A soft and gentle soul, always caring and thoughtful. So considerate that she endured the pain of her shaking limbs to see off visitors who came by to pay their last respects that somber night. That was just the type of dog Slayti was.  No soul could be more selfless and saintly than our dear little AussieChon of 15 years. She understood us, there was no need for words, and we understood her. We were in sync. Obedient, intelligent, and eager to please. She passed in the winter of 2023 when arthritis won the battle she had been fighting for years. Farewell beautiful friend. 

Some may argue that all dogs treated well possess such qualities. You may be right, but it was that loss that propelled us less than a month later, to go dashing in the rain to adopt another. The stars were aligned, there happened to be a breeder who happened to be just an hour away, who happened to have a fresh litter of Bernedoodles available. 

We quickly googled "miniature Bernedoodle", and skimmed all the adorable qualities they were supposed to embody; "a dog that this goofy, intelligent, highly trainable, and above all has a loving and charming nature" and we said, "This seems to be the breed for us!"

By the time we called,  there was only one left and if we had to claim him, we needed to be there within a couple of hours as others were also allegedly on their way. Yikes! We went from declaring there would never be another dog after Slayti to showing up in our pajamas in the downpour.

The breeder brought out the tiny little pup with his white-tipped tail and large snowy paws to meet us. So gentle, so mellow.  We were told he had this temperament because his parents were therapy dogs. Wow, what lineage, what potential! Who couldn't do with some therapy? We gushed further and knew he had to be ours. We envisioned long walks on the beach, hikes in the forest, playtime at dog parks, and cuddling while we read and watched TV. All sorts of scenarios danced through our minds. He would be our bestest friend in the world. 

During our drive home, he slept on the floor and we unanimously agreed that he should be named Bernie. Bernie, the "Berne"doodle. Later people would ask, “Bernie? As in Bernie Sanders?” No, not Bernie Sanders, although… there is a slight resemblance. He does give off cuddly grandpa vibes. You know you see it too.

On our way home, we stopped at the Pet Store to gather all the essentials the breeder had recommended. A crate, a pen, pee pads, and food were quickly checked off our list. Naturally,  we were stopped a few times by admiring customers. We were smitten with his little tail wagging and those adorable chunky plush paws.

Armed with all the essentials and then some, we eagerly made our way home, bubbling with excitement to introduce him to his new living quarters.

And then… we woke up.