It’s fitting that our giant goober Bernoulli turns two today, on April Fools. It’s a cosmic coincidence, I guess.

Instead of doing an article on some pet news or science that needs debunking, I thought I would write up Bernoulli’s story for you all, as much as I can remember it.

Two years ago, when Kris and I were getting ready to travel to Dallas, Texas to see the eclipse (it was amazing, by the way), an account we follow called The Golden Ratio added a puppy to the mix. Kris and I LOVE golden puppies, and perhaps this was the seed for what was to come.

After we got back, sometime in late April or early May, Kris’s colleague mentioned that her sister’s Bernese Mountain Dog had an oopsie pregnancy. They had a male and female Berner and, well… things happened and some shenanigans occurred.

I remember this conversation because Kris thought it was cute and funny, but we went about our business for another few weeks.

THEN the puppy pictures started floating around her office, and she would send me some.

To be quite honest with you all, I had NO intention of getting another dog. I was perfectly happy with Bunsen and Beaker, and Ginger, who was still living with us as Adam was doing another year of his science degree at home.

Our Easter/spring break came late in April, and Kris and I were sitting on the couch sipping coffee when another set of puppy pictures came in on her phone.

She showed them to me and said… “What do you think?”

I was shocked. She was asking if I wanted another dog. I asked what she meant, and she said, “I really want to go see the puppies.”

I said we could go look, but I knew in my heart something big was happening.

The puppies were WAY up north in Grand Prairie, which was a six-hour drive one way. So we left at 5 in the morning and arrived mid-afternoon.

We met the humans—they were kind. Then we met the mom and dad dogs, and then the puppies.

Oh, were they ever sweet.

Kris and I played with them. They chewed our shoes and bit our fingers. They wrestled with each other. I purposely held back, as this decision was for Kris to make, if one was to be made.

A sleepy puppy who had been dozing in the corner of the pen woke up and padded over to Kris. She picked him up. He was big—much bigger than most of the other puppies. He also had bright brown markings above his eyes, and his paws were perfectly white.

In Kris’s arms, he didn’t bite or nibble. He just licked her face. She hugged him close, and he snuggled in.

That was when I knew this little guy was going to join our family.

All the way back on the long six-hour drive, we talked about everything. Could we handle three dogs? Would it change the relationship we had with Bunsen and Beaker? How would Ginger react? Were we making a good decision, or were we just in love with the puppy?

About an hour into the drive home, we were committed to this Bernese puppy, and then we started thinking of names.

There was Barium, Bismuth, and Boron—element names. Then Brimstone and Bauxite. We tried a ton of science names. Nothing felt right. Beryllium was close.

Kris then said, “What about Bernoulli?”

Wow. Even just typing that makes my eyes well up.

Kris said my voice caught and wavered. I said, “That’s perfect.”

Bernoulli was a Swiss scientist, and Bernese are Swiss dogs.

More than anything, through his work with fluids and how they move, Bernoulli’s principle was developed—where the faster a fluid moves, the lower the pressure it has. This principle has applications in medicine and fluid systems, but its most famous connection is to flight.

It allows for lift.

That’s why my voice caught. That’s why my eyes well up.

Kris and I have put countless hours into what we do on social media. We try to create content that teaches, but also content that brings joy.

Or lift.

Holding that little puppy, I felt lifted up. Stress and hard things that had happened that year—like the death of my mom—felt lighter. Less heavy. This little puppy was the promise of lift.

So Big Red (his nickname at the time) became Bernoulli.

It was a hard wait until early June for him to join our family.

We met the Berner’s dad at a halfway point, and he had Bernoulli with him.

He was HUGE.

I burst into tears when I held him, and I’m not ashamed to say I cried into his perfectly soft fur.

I knew our lives were changed forever.

And they were.

Bernoulli brought something new into our family—spontaneous joy and chaos. That puppy kept us on our toes, and he was a handful to raise.

He was also the most cuddly dog we’ve ever had, even more so than the late Kahlan, who came before Bunsen.

Bernoulli is smart. Really smart. He is the best-trained dog of the three.

Bernoulli LOVES his mom more than anything—but so does Bunsen, so there’s something about Berners and Kris.

Bernoulli is up for ANYTHING.

His smile and personality are HUGE, and because of that, the internet fell in love with him. Well that and the Ginger maulings. It changed our lives with the explosion of Instagram and Facebook.

I look back at the two years he has been with us, and they have been filled with more joy and fun because of Bernoulli.

He wasn’t a puppy we planned for.

He wasn’t a perfect gentleman like Bunsen or a quiet, steady good girl like Beaker.

But what he was… was lift.

Happy Birthday, Bernoulli.

We love you so very, very much.