A Breeder (with a capital B) is one who thirsts for knowledge and
never really knows it all, one who wrestles with decisions of conscience,
convenience, and commitment. A Breeder is one who sacrifices personal
interests, finances, time, friendships, fancy furniture, and deep pile
carpeting! She gives up the dreams of a long, luxurious cruise in favor
of turning that all important show into this years "vacation." A Breeder
goes without sleep (but never without coffee!) in hours spent planning a
breeding or watching anxiously over the birth process,
and afterwards, over every little sneeze, wiggle or cry. A Breeder skips dinner
parties because that litter is due or the babies have to be fed at eight.
She disregards birth fluids and puts mouth to mouth to save a gasping
newborn, literally blowing life into a tiny, helpless creature that may be
the culmination of a lifetime of dreams. A Breeder's lap is a marvelous
place where generations of proud and noble champions once snoozed.
A Breeder's hands are strong and firm and often soiled, but ever so
gentle and sensitive to the thrusts of a puppy's wet nose. A Breeder's back
and knees are usually arthritic from stooping, bending, and sitting in the
birthing box, but are strong enough to enable the breeder to show the next
choice pup to a Championship. A Breeder's shoulders are stooped and often
heaped with abuse from competitors, but they're wide enough to support the
weight of a thousand defeats and frustrations. A Breeder's arms are always
able to wield a mop, support an armful of puppies, or lend a helping hand
to a newcomer. A Breeder's ears are wondrous things, sometimes red (from
being talked about) or strangely shaped (from being pressed against a phone
receiver), often deaf to criticism, yet always fine-tuned to the whimper of a sick
puppy.
A Breeder's eyes are blurred from pedigree research and sometimes blind to her
own dog's faults, but they are ever so keen to the competitions faults and are
always searching for the perfect specimen. A Breeder's brain is foggy on faces,
but it can recall pedigrees faster than an IBM computer. It's so full of knowledge
that sometimes it blows a fuse: it catalogues thousands of good bonings, fine ears,
and perfect heads... and buries in the soul the failures and the ones that didn't
turn out. A Breeder's heart is often broken, but it beats strongly with hope
everlasting... and it's always in the right place!
Oh, yes, there are breeders, and then, there are BREEDERS!!
--Author unknown
