Welcome to the Pack!

Hi, I’m Bruno. a medium-sized, completely pedigree-free pup of 9 months, full of curiosity and a big heart, but with no manners. 

I spent my early days in the world's biggest animal shelter - Smeura - in Romania, when someone bought me a ticket for the bus to Germany. It was a long and stressful journey to the dog shelter in Koblenz, where I waited for months on end for a family to find me. They even made me a poster child but fame never came to me.

Then finally, a family noticed me, we had several dates and dog walks, and they decided to take me home. The dog shelter wasn't too bad, and I had made a couple of friends there, but now I’m learning what it means to have a real home and to be part of a pack. I’m excited, a little goofy, and eager for every new sniff and hug.

I still have a lot to learn the doggy 101. I’m working on basic commands, leash manners, staying calm around other dogs, and playing safely. I admit I am afraid of everything, cars, two-wheelers of any kind, strollers, particularly little kids, loud noises such a the rustling of leaves or the wind in the trees. And walking aids are pure evil. But with patience, consistent guidance, and lots of love, I know I’ll grow into a well-behaved, loyal friend ready for adventures with my new pack.

And aunt Hilda will nudge me, shout at me and correct me whenever I'm doing something wrong, that's a given.

Petrified Echoes of Time

If you wander into the Dahner Felsenland, a dense, unapologetically green forest in southwestern Germany, you will suddenly find yourself staring at massive, deeply red pillars of bunter sandstone towering up to 70 meters above the treetops. They look less like natural geological features and more like the abandoned structural experiments of a giant, whimsically drunk architect. 

The story behind them is a classic tale of planetary patience and superb cosmic luck: During the Supercontinent Phase (250 Million Years Ago), back when Europe was parked somewhere near the equator, this region was a hot, brutally inhospitable desert. Massive, ancient rivers dumped millions of tons of gravel, sand, and iron-rich mud into a sinking basin. Under immense pressure, this rusty sediment was compacted into layers of rock. 

The geological crust here is quite cleverly layered like a multi-tiered cake. You have incredibly hard, heavy conglomerates sitting directly on top of much softer, crumbly sandstone. Over millions of years, wind, rain, and frost systematically chewed away at the landscape, also known as erosion. Where the hard top layers protected the soft stone underneath, you got bizarre, gravity-defying monoliths. Where they didn't, the rock simply turned back into sand.