We knew she was the one when we first saw her huddled in the back of her cage at the San Mateo County Animal Shelter. She was a scruffy, non-descript little salt and pepper terrier in desperate need of a home, and my wife and I knew she would be the first living creature that we would be committed to care for as a couple.

Bernadette, "Bernie" for short was our BC dog (before children). Our love and dedication was rewarded with a truly exceptional companion who was willing to do most anything to please us. She quickly learned to bring in the morning paper (she once rewarded us with 7 Sunday papers, bet our neighbors weren't too happy that day.) She would dutifully wait outside the supermarket to carry home the groceries (paper not plastic.) When we went camping, if told to get the stick, Bernie would proudly bring back firewood, often times logs bigger than her.

She was the sole recipient of all our care and attention for 10 years until the arrival of our son, Nick and 2.5 years later our daughter, Suzanne. By the time our kids were aware of the family dog, Bernie was no longer sprightly young pup my wife and I knew, but a slightly surly geriatric more inclined to nap than play. Though she gamefully continued to go on family outings, our children never got to know that incredibly special dog that would do anything to please her owners.

When that terrible day came (as sick as she was, it was still a difficult decision) we tearfully said good-by to our beloved Bernie. The depression was so resounding I stayed home from work for a couple of days. Being a veterinarian, I was constantly reminded of the special bond between a pet owner and their pet and couldn't imagine dealing with the terrible pain of losing a beloved companion again. This was the first time I could recall ever being in a dogless house in my life.

It had been 18 months since we lost our Bernie and life moves you along, but still no dog. We were off on a family expedition to visit Mission San Antonio down below Monterey for my son's fourth grade mission project. It was one of those El Nino years and in a downpour we drove out through an abandoned military base to the end of an oak - strewn valley to arrive at the deserted mission. After a half hour of slogging through puddles around the mission the man who ran the gift shop returned from lunch. He asked who the 4th grader was because he knew no one else would be out on a day like this. He suggested we get the "mission pack" which included everything we would need for our mission project. We continued our exploration of the mission and after achieving complete water saturation headed for home with our still unopened "mission pack". That evening we spread out the contents of the mission pack on the kitchen table in preparation for starting our son's project. As we looked through the maps and history of the mission we came across a postcard which had the best picture of our beloved little "Bernie" that I had ever seen, she was running through a field of Lupines, fluffy tail up in front of a sun drenched mission.

At that moment I knew all was right with the world and that our lost friend was ok. Within two weeks we had adopted "Maggie", a scruffy little terrier and a wonderful new friendship had begun.