12Oct
The last few months have been tough. Really tough.
There have been some truly beautiful moments, filled with happiness, pride and excitement. But there have also been some incredibly emotional, heartbreaking moments that have left me questioning how I can possibly carry on breeding.
I think people sometimes see the beautiful puppies, the lovely photographs and the happy updates without realising just how much goes on behind the scenes. How much worry, how many sleepless nights, how many tears and just how emotionally invested we become in every single dog and puppy in our care.
Breeding is something I absolutely love, but sometimes the reality of it hits hard. And these last few months have certainly reminded me of that.
Raven – The End of a Beautiful Chapter ❤️
Raven's final litter was incredibly special.
Knowing these would be her very last babies made every moment that little bit more precious. Eight beautiful puppies, and I couldn't have been prouder of a single one of them.They were beautiful inside and out. Their temperaments were everything I could have hoped for, and watching them take socialisation and new experiences in their stride was an absolute pleasure. Everything seemed to come so naturally to them. They were confident, curious and wonderfully adaptable little puppies, and raising them was genuinely a joy.
I so wish I could have kept at least one.
But with Raven's breeding chapter coming to an end, it was time to have her spayed. I've had dogs spayed before, so you would think I might be a little more relaxed about it. But no. I worried myself absolutely silly.
The thought of putting her through surgery, having her under anaesthetic and trusting somebody else to look after her was incredibly difficult for me. My dogs are my family, and other than the people living in our home, I simply don't leave them in anybody else's care.
When the vets called to say they wanted to keep Raven a little longer, my heart sank. She was uncomfortable and needed stronger pain relief. They were also concerned about the colour of her gums, which only added to my worry. Thankfully, after checking her notes, they discovered that Raven naturally has paler gums than the average dog.
But in those moments, when you're waiting and worrying, your mind goes to all sorts of places. When Raven finally came home, I set up a separate room for her so she could recover peacefully without the risk of being knocked by the rest of the pack.
And two weeks later, the vets gave her the all-clear. She healed beautifully, and looking at her now, you would never know what she'd been through.
One thing the vets told me afterwards made me smile so much. When Raven came around from her operation, all she wanted to do was wander around, greet the staff and give everybody kisses. Knowing the operation she had just had and then wanting to go around and lick people's faces...my heart felt so full. Even after surgery, she still wanted to share her love with everyone.
Ivy – The Little Puppy Who Broke My Heart and Made Me So Proud 🐾
Then there was Ivy.
An accident resulted in a small transverse hairline fracture in her rear leg, and what followed was one of the most emotionally difficult experiences I've had with a puppy.
It was a rollercoaster I never, ever want to experience again.
For the first few weeks, we slept downstairs with her. She needed to be separated from her siblings, and seeing her unable to enjoy the things a young puppy should be doing absolutely broke my heart.
She should have been playing, exploring, wrestling with her siblings and enjoying her puppyhood.
Instead, she had a splint protecting her leg, and I was being told she needed to be confined to a crate. I completely understood the importance of protecting her injury and allowing the bone to heal. But socialisation is also incredibly important to me, and I couldn't bear the thought of Ivy missing out on those vital early experiences.
I was determined to find safe ways to give her as much of a normal puppyhood as possible without compromising her recovery. Initially, I carried her around the house and garden, letting her see, smell and experience the world around her. Ivy is a fiercely independent little character, and being restricted was incredibly frustrating for her. She began showing frustration-related behaviours, and I knew she needed more mental enrichment and stimulation.
So I researched, adapted and found ways to help her. I worked out how to transport her safely in the car, and my stroller, with its fantastic suspension, became an absolute lifesaver. Ivy came everywhere with us. Cafés, pubs, parks, school runs, walks and little adventures. You name it, Ivy probably came along.
She experienced so much of the outside world, met people, encountered new sights and sounds, and spent more time travelling in the car than most puppies her age. And she loved it.
In some ways, our unfortunate circumstances meant Ivy experienced even more one-to-one time and individual adventures than she otherwise would have.
After numerous X-rays to monitor her healing, we finally received the news that her splint could be removed. I should have been overjoyed. Instead, I broke down. Seeing her leg looking so straight was absolutely devastating. I was terrified that it would never return to normal, that something was permanently wrong and that my beautiful little puppy would be left struggling. The vet explained that Ivy still had a long road to recovery. Those words hurt more than I can explain. I'm not particularly strong emotionally when it comes to my dogs. I feel everything so deeply, and seeing one of my puppies going through something like this was incredibly hard.
But I wasn't prepared to give up. I wanted to do absolutely everything within my power to help her regain her strength, movement and confidence. We began physiotherapy, laser therapy and hydrotherapy, alongside exercises and rehabilitation at home.
Following advice, I used gentle warmth to help relax her muscles and tissues before carefully working through her prescribed joint movements and exercises. I researched different ways to support her recovery, bought equipment that might help and adapted our daily routines around what Ivy needed. Every walk, every exercise and every little activity had a purpose. There were setbacks, worries and plenty more tears along the way. But there were also little victories. And those little victories gradually became bigger ones.
Hydrotherapy was particularly wonderful to watch. Ivy turned out to be an incredibly strong swimmer. She used all four legs equally, and although her main ambition was always to swim straight back to me, she was getting stronger with every session. Seeing her move so freely in the water was something special.
Then came our final physiotherapy assessment. To hear that Ivy's injured leg was now only fractionally weaker than her others was almost overwhelming. The relief was immense. All those weeks of worrying, researching, adapting, crying, hoping and refusing to give up had paid off. I was so incredibly proud of her. Ivy had been determined and strong throughout it all, and together, we'd made it through.
Eventually, I found Ivy a wonderful family. I won't pretend that letting her go was easy. After everything we'd been through together, I had formed such a strong bond with her. Knowing she would be living five hours away made it even harder. But the updates I receive from her family genuinely make me one of the happiest people on earth. Seeing videos of Ivy running, walking beautifully and enjoying life as a much-loved member of her new family is everything I could have wished for. Knowing how deeply her humans love her, and seeing how happy she is with them, means more to me than I can ever put into words.
I still miss her. But I couldn't be prouder of the little dog she has become.
Willow and Enzo – Beautiful Beginnings and Sleepless Nights ❤️
And then came Willow and Enzo's litter. Oh, the excitement! This was such a special pairing for me. It was Enzo's very first litter and Hendrix's first grandpuppies, and I was so excited to see what these two beautiful dogs would produce.
Alongside the excitement, though, there was some nervousness. Willow's previous litter hadn't been the easiest experience, although we believe much of that was down to the terrible timing of a tummy bug during her pregnancy. Thankfully, this pregnancy went beautifully. But the birth of our first puppy, Juno, was one of the most frightening experiences I've ever had as a breeder. I've already shared the details of Juno's difficult arrival in a previous blog post, so I won't go through it all again. But seeing her born with no visible signs of life, and desperately trying to help her while Willow was still in labour, is something I don't think I'll ever forget. Thankfully, Juno fought her way into the world, and before long we had five beautiful little girls. Five girls! I still couldn't quite believe it.
Now, four weeks on, I look at them and feel an overwhelming sense of pride. Juno, the little girl who frightened me so much when she arrived, is now a beautiful, chunky puppy who reminds me so much of Enzo when he was little. Sometimes I just sit and look at her, feeling incredibly grateful that she's here. All five girls are developing beautifully, and so far, they have taken everything in their stride. New sounds, new sights, new experiences and changes to their environment are being met with confidence and curiosity. Watching them approach the world without worry is something that makes me incredibly happy.
After everything we've been through, I can't tell you how much I'm enjoying seeing these little girls thrive. And I am so excited for the weeks ahead.
Emma's birthday 🥳
Emma recently reached her 10th birthday. A dog at 10 years old feels very special.
Emma has been with us since my youngest was 1 years old. She has been there for so much and when I look back at photos, it is amazing how Emma has been a huge part of our lives.
Looking at Emma and watching her enjoy life, you would never know her age. I even had the vets question her age on the last two check ups. Whilst she looks and seems younger, I can tell she is slowing down and her fur condition isn't quite the same.
She still goes for longer adventures, enjoys life and goes for a good run but I am prepared to help her with physiotherapy and hydrotherapy if necessary. I feel there is a slight stiffness in her rear legs. I am doing exercises that helped Ivy and will keep a close eye on her. She is having extra supplements to support her from the inside. My goal is to make her senior years as comfortable as possible ❤️
The Side of Breeding You Don't Always See
I suppose the reason I'm sharing all of this is because I want people to understand that breeding isn't always what it looks like from the outside.
Behind the beautiful photographs, the happy puppy updates and the excitement of welcoming new life, there can be an enormous amount of worry, responsibility, heartbreak and sacrifice. There are moments when you question yourself. Moments when you feel helpless. Moments when you're so emotionally and physically exhausted that you wonder how you can possibly keep doing this.
I know I have questioned myself more than once these last few months.
Not because I've stopped loving what I do, but because I love these dogs and puppies so much. When something goes wrong, it isn't simply a problem to solve. It's a little life that I feel deeply responsible for. And when they're hurting, frightened or struggling, I feel it too.
I put an enormous amount of pressure on myself to do the very best I possibly can for every dog and puppy in my care. I research, I learn, I adapt, I worry and, when necessary, I turn to professionals who can help me do better.
I know I can't control everything. No breeder can, no matter how experienced, knowledgeable or careful they are. But accepting that doesn't make the difficult moments any easier. These last few months have challenged me emotionally in ways I wasn't prepared for. Yet they've also given me some of the most rewarding moments I can remember.
Watching Raven recover beautifully and enjoy her retirement. Seeing Ivy regain her strength and flourish with her wonderful family. Looking at Juno, knowing how close we came to losing her, and watching her grow into a happy, confident puppy.
Those moments mean everything.
And then there are the lovely messages from families, the photographs of puppies growing into beautiful adult dogs, the stories of adventures and the knowledge that these little lives are bringing so much happiness to the people who love them. They remind me why I started.
I don't breed because it's easy. I do it because I have such a deep love for these dogs, because I believe in the importance of raising puppies with care, understanding and compassion, and because watching them develop into happy, confident companions is something that will never stop being special to me. I know I will never become less emotional about it all.
The heartbreak is real. The worry is real. The exhaustion is real. But so is the love, the pride and the overwhelming happiness when everything comes together.
And sometimes, after the hardest of days, all it takes is watching a happy little puppy wag her tail, explore something new or curl up peacefully beside me to remind me just how much these dogs mean to me.
Breeding isn't just about bringing puppies into the world. It's about everything we do for them once they're here, and the responsibility we carry for the lives we've helped create.
And that is something I will never take lightly. ❤️
~ Claire 🐾