Long before it was the name of a trusted Pomeranian kennel in Ho Chi Minh City, “Bánh Bò” was the name of one little Pomeranian — a girl I took home when she was already four years old, and who is thirteen today. Everything we do now began with her…

People often ask me: why do you love Bánh Bò so much? And with so many dogs in the house, do you really love every one of them the way you love her?

Here’s the thing — when I love a dog, it isn’t only because she’s pretty or cute. It’s because of everything we’ve been through together.

Years ago, when I was on my own

Years ago, I had just come out of a relationship of almost three years, and life felt completely unsteady. I was young and didn’t know much about love yet — but I had grown used to having someone to grab coffee with, to share meals with, to spend my free days with. And then, suddenly, that was over.

My friends were all students back then, buried in classes. Our free time almost never lined up.

There was only Bánh Bò. On workdays she rode with me all the way from Binh Duong into Saigon. On days off, the two of us went to cafés and took photos together. That was it — that was my life.

Sometimes, riding my motorbike, I’d look down and see her sitting right there at my feet. It warmed my heart every time. I felt I had a friend beside me who would never leave.

My one rule: Bánh Bò comes to meet every new puppy

Later, when I started the kennel, I made myself a rule: every time I went to bring home a new dog, I carried Bánh Bò along.

I’d introduce them: “This is your little sister. She’s coming home to live with us, and she’ll be part of our family. But in Mom’s heart, you will always come first.”

I said the same thing to Bánh Bò about every single one.

And years later, when I had a baby, the first thing I did after bringing my child home from the hospital was pick up Bánh Bò and say: “This is your little sibling. Remember when the baby was still in my belly, and I used to hold you close so you could hear the baby?”

I don’t think animals understand every word we say. But they understand the feeling behind the words. I wanted Bánh Bò to know she was an old dog who was loved — not an old dog who had been pushed aside or forgotten.

My one condition for getting married

Before I married my husband, I made him promise: he would love Bánh Bò, and he would never mistreat her — whether I was there or not.

That was my only condition. Simple as that.

I didn’t raise Bánh Bò from a puppy the way most people do — she was already four when she came to me. Today she is thirteen.

Every Lunar New Year, my heart is full. But I also know that the day she leaves me is getting closer.

Do I love them all? Of course.

Later I got Mẹt, who is just as clingy and just as funny. And many of the Poms I’ve brought home since are far more valuable, and far more beautiful, than Bánh Bò.

But I have never felt that same thing again — the feeling of a companion who was with me through the hard days, the lonely days, the days when I was still broken.

So if you ask whether I love all of them — yes, every single one. But none of them is Bánh Bò.

When I share stories like this online, people who have never had a pet can’t quite understand. But anyone who has loved a dog or a cat through the years will understand immediately.

The dogs I have raised, bred and placed in new homes must number in the thousands by now. My life has changed completely — from a student, to running a business, to becoming a wife and a mother. Yet no one has ever taken Bánh Bò’s place in my heart. She was never just a pet. She is my child, my companion, and a lifetime of memories.

“They’re so picky” — because we don’t sell dogs, we find them homes

Some people who ask about our puppies say we’re too picky, or that we sometimes don’t reply.

I’m not selling dogs. I’m finding each of them a new home.

I only want to place a puppy with someone who has done their research and is truly prepared — not someone following a trend or acting on impulse.

Even when you buy a shirt or a snack, nobody enjoys a curt conversation. When you take home one of our puppies, we stay with you — sometimes for five or seven years — answering every question along the way. If our very first exchange lacks basic courtesy, how can we build a relationship that lasts that long?

If that makes me difficult, I accept it. If that makes me picky, I accept that too. Because I truly hope every Pom I place will be loved completely — the way I have loved Bánh Bò.

Why a Pomeranian kennel is named after one little dog

When it came time to name the kennel, I didn’t look for something catchy or easy to market. I simply used Bánh Bò’s name.

To me, Bánh Bò is proof of something very simple: a Pom who is loved completely lives a complete life. She isn’t the prettiest dog in our home, or the most valuable. But she is the most loved — and she has loved me back the same way for nine years, ever since the days when I had nothing.

Putting Bánh Bò’s name on the kennel is a promise: every Pom who leaves us must find a home and a love that is complete — just like the love Bánh Bò gave me, and the love I gave her.

That’s why we ask so many questions, choose so carefully, and are sometimes called demanding. Every puppy we place carries Bánh Bò’s name.

Since starting as Cải Bắp Kennel in 2012, we have come a long way: becoming members of the Vietnam Kennel Association (VKA), breeding to FCI standards, selecting breeding stock from Thailand, South Korea and China over many years, and sending Vietnamese-born Pomeranians to the United States and Canada with complete CDC documentation, quarantine clearance and microchips.

But one thing hasn’t changed since day one — how we see a Pom: a Pom shouldn’t just be beautiful. It should be right. The right structure, the right breed standard, the right pedigree. And the right family.

So for us, a trustworthy Pomeranian kennel isn’t measured by how many puppies it sells each month. It’s measured by how many are living happily in their new homes.

The Bánh Bò Pom mission: Love – Understand – Select – Share the very best Poms.

If one day you bring a Pom home

Twelve to fifteen years is a long journey — long enough for a Pom to stay by your side through a few moves, a few job changes, and the days when you don’t feel like talking to anyone. Just as Bánh Bò did for me.

So before you bring a little life home, take the time to learn: about the Pomeranian breed, about your puppy’s personality, and about how your own daily routine will change with a dog by your side.

And we’ll be here, true to our mission from day one: to help you find the Pom that’s right for you, and to stay with you so your puppy is raised the right way, guided by science.

Chat with us on WhatsApp · What determines a puppy’s price · The origin of the Pomeranian breed