The fortunes of a purebred dog breeder are as variable and unpredictable as the weather. If you think money, fame and glory will follow each liaison between Mr. and Mrs. Canine Perfection, here's a story for you.
Nigel may never shine in the show ring because he may not be equipped, or "entire," as the English so delicately put it. At 12 weeks, we're still waiting for the pea to drop all the way into the pod.
Nigel, his sisters, my husband and I have come a long way together. Nigel's mother Belle was sold by us, her breeders, to a "show" home at 5 months. They pursued that elusive championship, but Belle decided the ring was not her forte: "I'd rather be home!" For personal reasons, her owners decided to return her to us at almost 4 years, pointed but untitled. No matter, I thought. She'll make her mark in the whelping box.
As we struggled to introduce her into an established canine household that included her extremely independent and not too tolerant litter sister, we waited for Belle to come into season. And waited. Finally, six months late, she obliged. We bred her to a relatively local dog, logging only about eight hours of travel time. It could have been worse. It could also have been better, because Belle missed.
In the fall of 1994 a woman called asking for a puppy. One thing led to the proverbial other. Before any of us knew it, Belle went to live with her across the state. It was a good marriage and 1 have no doubt Belle will remain with her new family, both adored and adoring.
Her new family was very willing to breed her and cooperated with us to the fullest. With some trepidation, since she was almost 5 years old and had never had a litter, we tried again. We shipped her to a dog in Canada. In the spring of 1995 we accomplished our mission. Nature cooperated this time. Belle settled down to an uneventful pregnancy.
I spent the obligatory sleepless nights away from home to whelp Belle's puppies. In those interminable hours that breeders know only too well, she whelped three healthy pups, two plain bitches and a flashy dog, Nigel. It was a Thursday, mid-afternoon, when I called the local vet to ask him to examine Belle to determine if she was done. It was his day off and he wouldn't interrupt himself for the likes of us. No matter, I thought, she's probably OK.
The next morning, Belle gave us one more puppy, quite dead, of course. Luckily, there were no more complications, but I do have some choice words for vets who are too lazy to see their clients.
We were blessed with three fat, thriving pups and a happy dam that proved to be an excellent mother. We reared the pups without incident, but we had a few dicey moments when Nigel contracted a (thankfully mild) case of inhalation pneumonia.
Hannah, one of the bitches, went to a great home where she will be worked in obedience. Belle's foster family adopted Phoebe, the other bitch. Which left Nigel to us. Here we sit, waiting to see if his private parts cooperate.
In summary, we took an adult bitch of our breeding back from her original owners and housed and fed her for about 10 months, during which time she was bred, unsuccessfully. One stud fee lost. We bred her again, at the cost of a stud fee and airfare. We whelped a litter, had three live pups and paid for shots, ears, tails and dewclaws. On the other hand, we were luckier than some. We have a live bitch and pups, there was no cesarean and parvo never paid us a call. I hope Nigel is a star. If not, we may recoup the cost of 1 1/2 stud fees if we sell him as a pet.
Stephanie Abraham
P. O. Box 346
Scotland, CT 06264
