When I was stationed in Germany my 11-year old son’s American piano teacher had two Bernese Mountain dogs, Nettie and Dolce. We agreed to keep them one weekend while she and her husband were skiing. She dropped them off at our apartment and they came in and settled down just as though they’d been to see us several times.
My son wanted to take them for a walk around the village, but I was concerned they might tangle him up by going in opposite directions, so I offered to go along. We took them down the street and walked among the fields at the edge of the village. On the way back, we passed a farm house with a four-foot high stone wall that had about a twelve-foot wide opening instead of a gate.
Before I realized he was there, a German shepherd came roaring out from the edge of the barn, barking and growling and snarling as though he wanted to tear us apart. The farm yard was covered in cobble stones and his clanking chain made even more racket!
I didn’t know what to expect, and for a moment my heart was in my throat, but our guest dogs didn’t react at all. They didn’t flinch; they didn’t bark or growl back; they completely ignored the loud mouth with the big teeth. It was as though they looked at him and thought, “There’s one of him and two of us. Besides, he’s on an 8-foot chain and we’re 20 feet away!”
It’s called the “Bronx cheer” or the “raspberry.” Stick your tongue out between your lips and blow. I can’t spell the sound it makes, but you know it. I got the feeling that if dogs could blow a “raspberry,” that’s the way Nettie and Dolce would have responded!
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from Jim in Germany
Epilogue
I was absolutely amazed! I grew up on a farm where if two strange dogs met, one either ran really fast or there was a big fight. My daughter had a cat for a few years, but we had mostly been without a pet, primarily because of military moves. As I recounted the episode to my wife, we practically skipped the “Do we really want a dog?” and “Are we sure?” discussion, and went immediately to “How soon can we get one of these wonderful creatures?”
It took almost a year to find a breeder who had puppies available. We scheduled a trip to Burgdorf, just outside Bern – Yes, that Bern (Switzerland), the city and home canton (county) of the breed – to be interviewed. A wonderful Swiss couple, friends of our son’s American piano teacher, translated for us and acted as intermediaries. We didn’t realize it at the time, but they had to convince the breeder that we would be good “parents,” and not leave the dog behind when we moved to a new assignment.
The puppies were too young for us to take one while we were there, but we selected one that we liked. A man from Italy had been promised “first pick” of the two females, and we waited anxiously until it was time to go back for our pup. The week before we were to return, we learned that the Italian had selected the other female, and we would be picking up our Bessy! (You can see a few tales about her elsewhere on this site.)
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