Over the Rainbow Bridge...

A little over a week ago my sister told me great news of her newest litter being born. 2 boys, born full term to her Skye and a wonderful boy with great lineage. She had a lot of hopes and dreams for this litter tying in with bloodlines highly sought after in her breed.
Later last week I called her and found out that she had been tube feeding one of the boys every 2 hours since he was about 12 hrs old. In several more conversations with her, I found out that his journey was a roller coaster ride..filled with highs and lows in his physical state. Several times she thought he was going downhill fast and then other times cautiously optimistic.
Sadly she lost him early yesterday morning. He crossed over the rainbow bridge at 9 days old.
Her agonizing pain clearly evident over the phone. I felt so helpless not to be able to do anything but send a hug via the phone lines. How the miles really suck at times like this.
I can clearly relate...going through the same thing about a year ago. Tube feeding a little boy for over 4 weeks every 3 hrs. He made to the point of being able to lick up pablum on his own. I was ever so intent on listening for crackels in his chest and the first hint of them, he was in to the vet. He had developed asperational pneumonia, where fluid drains into their lungs. He was on antibiotics for about 24 hrs when I found that he had died curled up against his mama.
That was a cruel blow, one that took a long time to get over. Clearly exhausted and completely drained I wanted to pack it in and never have another litter of puppies again.
However, that being emotions talking, after some time I really could not see myself never having babies again.
Like I told my sister yesterday when it is good, it is so good and when it is bad, it is devastating. Having puppies is like no other feeling in the world and when they are healthy and thrive it is the greatest high. However when they need help or are sick and you put your heart and soul into saving a wee life that is mere ounces it is gut wrenching to go through.
I am so sorry Nanc, I cannot say it enough. I wish that I could have helped you with this little one and I wish so much that I could hug you.
I can say that time does heal and you know you did everything you could to save this wee life and it was just not meant to be.
I came across a poem a while ago and it really does articulate the true meaning of being a breeder, not just a breeder but a good breeder. There are breeders out there that are trying to make a fast buck by putting whatever 2 dogs together and by definition having a litter of puppies makes them a breeder but not a good or a GREAT breeder.

Nanc, this ones for you....

"What is a Breeder?"

A Breeder (with a Capital "B") is one who thirsts for knowledge & never really knows it all, one who wrestles with decisions of conscience, convince, and commitment.

A Breeder is one who sacrifices personal interests, finances, time, fancy furniture, and deep pile carpeting! She gives up the dream of long luxurious cruises in favor of turning that all important show into this years "vacation"

The Breeder goes without sleep (but never without coffee/cola!) 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 Breeder's 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 arm full of puppies, 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 competition's 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 it 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 THERE ARE
BREEDERS!!!

Author Unknown