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".
The
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. The 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 new-born, 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 bone, fine ears, and perfect heads...and buries
in the soul the failures and the ones that didn't turn out.
The 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
