It's another day in Psych 101: Mollie Kavrell, 21, is there. So are Daniel Fudge, 23, and Steve Moore, 31. So too are their roommates and fellow students Ellie, Brie and Hannah - who happen to be golden retrievers.

At the whiteboard, Professor Gillian Squirrel is outlining cross-species personality tests so that an intuitive-introverted canine can be paired with a similar human.

This is just one of many morning classes at Bergin University for Canine Studies, the first accredited school of its kind in North America. Set on a bucolic hillside outside Rohnert Park, the university teaches the theory and practice of dog training, offering tertiary and graduate-level degrees in canine science.

This year, 40 students from across the country, the largest class ever, are studying to be service-dog trainers. Bergin graduates go on to start schools for service dogs, a growing pack of assistants that do everything from picking up remote controls for people with disabilities to sniffing out chemical leaks.

"We're starting a revolution here," says Bonnie Bergin, founder of the university.

At the quiet campus, nearly 50 dogs and a dozen puppies patiently watch any visitor who walks through the gate. Instead of dorms, there are kennels; instead of a community center, there's a puppy pen.

The school not only trains teachers but also turns out dozens of dogs to be donated to people with disabilities. Students, who are assigned a new dog each semester, take their subject home after class each night. By the end of the one- or two-year program, both dogs and students graduate. For people with disabilities, a Bergin service dog that can do basic tasks such as pulling a zipper or turning on a light can mean a life lived independently.

Good etiquette

On a recent morning, Bergin, 67, walks across campus followed by three polite golden retrievers. One darts ahead to open her office door. He reaches his paw up and pulls the handle down, then pushes it open with his nose.

Bergin steps around three dog beds and past an 8-foot-tall cat structure to her seat. An obese retired show cat named Rags jumps onto her desk and lies on its back.

"Dogs are seen as a backyard pet," Bergin says. "They're not given a scholarly treatment. And they ought to be. Trainers know how much dogs can do."

Considered to have coined the term "service dog," Bergin has trained dogs to do everything from read basic words to identify diseased plants in Napa's vineyards. She has written three books on dog training and has been honored for her work by President George W. Bush and Oprah Winfrey.

Before her canine-centric career, Bergin was a special-education teacher looking for ways to keep people with disabilities out of institutions. She called the Santa Rosa Disability Center to see what it thought about a dog coming to the center and whether it might be useful.

A volunteer answered the phone and said sure, if she finds a dog that can open the door or pick up her remote.

"So I went to the pound and picked out a puppy," says Bergin, stroking Rags the show cat, who is by now on her shoulder. "And we trained it to do much more than open doors."

Bergin says the school is coming up with more uses for dogs every year. "Once you learn how to train a service dog, you can go into therapy, industry, defense. They're entering more industries every year."

Suddenly she remembers she is late to class. A dog opens the door, and Bergin hurries out.

Around picnic tables outside, the bachelor of science students are having lunch.

"Canine science is an emerging market," says Brian Grasberger, 29. "I'm thinking of going into the industrial applications: gas chromatography, chemical analysis. Bonnie has just scratched the surface of what dogs can detect.

"It's a novel idea to people, so they're curious, maybe they laugh," says Grasberger, in khakis and a striped blue button-down as he picks up after his dog Hercules. "But once you explain it, they get excited."

"Bergin University ...," muses Anthony Bieda, director of external affairs for the Accrediting Council for Independent Colleges and Schools. "Ah yes, the dog college! Actually, sorry, they prefer not to be called the dog college."

When Bieda first heard about the school, he thought it was a joke. But he's come around: "This is not dog grooming. These people are serious. We were proud to accredit them."

The campus has strict rules. Dogs from the outside are not allowed in. Everyone must walk through disinfectant trays before going into the puppy house. No one can pet a dog that is wearing a "service dog" vest, because the canine must learn to differentiate work from play.

Bergin University's curriculum is sophisticated: human-canine cognition and communication compared; cynomorphic perspective; history of dog law; public relations with a dog. And its curriculum is intense. For their first two weeks, human students must be in a wheelchair at all times to learn what their future clients might need.

"The academic side of Bergin is very real, very challenging," says Steve Moore, 31. "It's the best university there is for this kind of study."

Learned professors

The university's professors were drawn to Bergin University from more traditional programs.

"One in four American families has a dog in their homes, yet if you want to get an advanced degree involving the science of dogs, understanding what's going on inside their furry heads, it's very difficult," says Stanley Coren, professor emeritus at the University of British Columbia. Despite writing 12 books on canine psychology, he was never able to lead a class on dogs until he started teaching at Bergin University.

Back in canine psychology, where there are 15 humans and 15 canines, Professor Squirrel eats one of her dog treats. Just Cheerios, she says. "There's nothing terribly interesting to see here. It's just class like anywhere else. Though we do have more dogs."
