 Last winter I received an email from Switzerland. Millie
(Michele) Bertmark, a French woman, wrote to ask for
permission to translate Nose to Nose and offered to help
find a French publisher.
It was a happy surprise. To be sure it would be fitting
for both of us, I asked if I could phone her.
When I called, a cheerful energetic voice answered the
phone. Immediately Millie inquired, "How is Moritz?" I
really did not need much more information; her voice
carried her message of caring, lightness and enthusiasm.
Yet I was curious about her generous offer. What
inspired her?
She explained her love of all animals, her special
interest in therapy animals, and spoke of her wish to
help. She believes animals can help people heal, often
in difficult circumstances, and she wanted to get this
message to a broader audience. She thought the
translation would serve such a purpose.
 She asked if Moritz and I could come to Switzerland,
after the translation was completed, to meet the
publisher and a friend who heads a Swiss Dog Therapy
Society.
In June, we traveled by train from Lucerne to Basel to
meet Millie who would pick us up at the station to spend
the day together before she began competition in the
World Reining Championships in southern France. She and
her horse had been competing and often winning in meets
throughout Europe.
Knowing nothing about this type of competition, I wonder
what this day has in store for us.
 The train arrives. Moritz jumps from the car to the
platform, happy to be on land weaving his way through
the station amongst the suitcases, passengers, and
baggage carts. He has a light step, head in the air, and
tail wagging. With his usual composure he's prepared for
the new adventure. Simply full of life.
We take an escalator down to the center of the station.
I see two women pointing to Moritz. One must be Millie,
I wave, and she waves back with a wide smile. Millie
greets Moritz as if they are old friends. Moritz, to my
surprise, rushes between her legs, a gesture he usually
saves for old friends. The two nuzzle together. After a
bit, Millie looks up and gives me a hug. She introduces
her friend, Celine, who together with Millie, train the
horses. Celine knows the directions to Mooslargne,
France, the home of the Reining competition.
 We walk to the car. Unhesitatingly, Moritz jumps into
the back seat, we follow and off we go.
Millie and I begin our conversation, laughing and
telling stories as if we had known each other for quite
awhile. As we cross the Swiss border to Alsace Lorraine
region of France the scenery changes to rolling hills
with pastures and summer crops, small villages, no
billboards, and few highway markers. It is a trip along
the back roads through postcard perfect countryside.
Even the cows lie down while chewing their cuds.
After losing our direction a few times we arrive at the
horse area.
 The scene is circus-like - stables, horses, cowboys and
cowgirls, trainers, dogs and spectators all flowing
together. Modern life surely is global. We could be in
France, Italy, Texas, Kentucky, even Montana. Millie
introduces me to her horse, Fox Olena Dream, a beautiful
chestnut gelding with a white blaze on his nose and then
leads me to the riding arena to watch contestants
warm-up. It is a fascinating new world.
Over coffee and tea Millie tells me she is a journalist
and is familiar with many publishers. In fact, she has
already translated Nose to Nose and sent it to one.
 As she talks about her love for animals I know she has
done a good translation and I thank her.
Later Millie invites Moritz and me to lunch at a highly
recommended restaurant, known - only by the locals - for
its authentic Alsatian cuisine. Celine has been there
once and thinks she can find it again. In this region,
where it's so easy to get lost, a cell phone is a
necessity. We set off to find the right village. After
15 minutes, we stop beside the village church. Celine is
calling the restaurant. She reports that we are to wait
and a car will meet us and we will follow it to our
destination. In 10 minutes a green land rover appears
and waves us to follow. We wind our way up an unmarked
mountain road through the woods and stop at an old
farmhouse. Roaming in the yard are ducks, geese, barking
dogs, horses (tied to the fence) and a Vietnamese pig. A
friendly French couple greets and invites us to sit down
and have some homemade wine.
Besides the farmhouse is a 12th Century church built on
Celtic ruins. We go inside and feel a peaceful presence
and take in the simple beauty.
 In only a few minutes we have entered a different space
and time, a world of long ago.
We sit outside at picnic tables - illuminated by light
filtered through the leaves of old oaks. I keep Moritz
on the leash as the large, gentle, and fearless
Vietnamese pig has come to visit. Moritz and he go snout
to nose checking each other out - both quickly lose
interest in each other.
Other guests arrive with their dogs, bicyclists and
equestrians ride up, and hikers trudge in.
 Suddenly I feel like we are a big family filled with
camaraderie.
We order. Before the food arrives the owners return with
wine and sit down with us to have conversation and
drink. They have chosen a life style that allows them to
be in nature and raise their children to appreciate a
simple existence. Although the work is hard, they love
their life. Their wholehearted embrace of life is
contagious. The conversation is delightful and the
atmosphere magical. It is a timeless place filled with
goodwill, fine food and a sense of sacredness.
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