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 or hot tea!) 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 newborn, literally blowing life into a tiny, helpless creature
that may be the culmination of a lifetime of dreams.
A Breeders lap is a marvelous place where generations of proud and noble champions once snoozed. A Breeders hands are strong and firm and often soiled, but
ever so gentle and sensitive to the thrusts of a puppy's wet nose. A Breeders
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 Breeders 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 Breeders arms are always able to
wield a mop, support an armful of puppies, or lend a helping hand to a newcomer.
A Breeders 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 Breeders
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 Breeders 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 boning, fine
ears, and perfect heads... and buries in the soul the failures and the ones
that didn't turn out. The Breeders 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