Bernie (1980-1991) Constant companion, loving friend. "May you always have a full bowl, & plenty of room to run."

He taught me more about myself than any person could. When Buffy passed on, I got him as a stray puppy someone found when he was so small he could fit in the palms of my hands.  He got to be about 50 or so pounds of the best dog I ever hope to know.  He would say "grace" before taking a treat, could escape from a pen better than Houdini (my dad's nickname for him), was attack-on-command trained but the kids could ride him, did on a couple of occasions place himself willingly between my family and trouble, and would work on hand signals alone from across a football field.  He did what he did without receiving treats as rewards (except the saying of grace, of course); he did it for the affection and love alone.  I had Bernie about a dozen years, and we were pretty much inseparable. I owe him a lot, and this is part of it... 

The photo above shows just what a sweetheart Bernie could be. That dog lived for attention. He once climbed 25' into a treehouse using nothing but 2' lengths of 2x4 that were nailed onto the side of the tree as a makeshift ladder. He climbed up there to be with me; I'll let you guess who carried him down.

...a little powder...	...and he's ready to ride...	...saying "Grace"....

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