05/09/2026
The part of breeding I find hard…
There are lots of difficult parts to breeding puppies. The worry, the sleepless nights, the responsibility of bringing little lives into the world and doing everything you possibly can to give them the very best start.
But there is another part that I don’t think we talk about very often.
Losing touch.
When I breed a litter, those puppies are part of my life long before they are ever placed into somebody else’s arms.
Their story begins before conception. There are plans, hopes, decisions and dreams. Then there is the pregnancy, the birth, those precious first weeks and all the tiny milestones along the way.
And during that time, I welcome their future owners into my world too.
I share the journey. The photographs. The excitement. The worries. The development. The personalities beginning to emerge. Eventually, I open my home and hand over a puppy that I have known from its very first breath.
And then sometimes, slowly, contact disappears.
Nobody has done anything wrong. Lives are busy. Puppies grow into adult dogs, the novelty of sending updates naturally fades, and years can pass incredibly quickly.
But I don’t stop wondering about them.
In fact, it was receiving photographs and videos today of one of my 10-year-olds that got me thinking about this. She and her family have emigrated, she is miles and miles away, living and enjoying a completely different life now, and yet her owner still thinks to include me in it.
A photograph. A little video. A message to show me what she’s doing and how she’s enjoying her life.
And it means more than they probably realise.
I have another of my puppies who is now 13 years old. She moved to Cornwall when she left me and I have never actually seen her in person since that day.
But I have watched her life from afar.
Her owner has always kept in touch. Photographs, videos and little updates have arrived throughout those 13 years. I may never have physically seen that little puppy again, but I haven’t lost her story.
And perhaps that’s the bit that matters to me.
I don’t need to be part of their everyday lives. They aren’t my dogs anymore. They belong completely to the families I chose for them, and that is exactly how it should be.
But I still care about what happens to them.
I love hearing about the big changes. A house move. A new human joining the family. Another dog arriving. Emigrating to another country. A new adventure or a completely new chapter.
And actually, I love the completely ordinary updates too. A walk on the beach. A funny habit. A favourite sleeping position. A grey face appearing where I still remember a tiny puppy face.
Because to me they were never simply puppies that I bred and sold.
Perhaps because I breed so infrequently, each litter consumes an enormous part of my life. I know those puppies before they are born. I am there for their first breath, their first meals, their first adventures and all those tiny pieces of development that eventually create the dog somebody takes home.
And then I hand them over and trust somebody else with the rest of their story.
Sometimes I get to continue watching that story unfold.
Sometimes I don’t.
There is no blame in that and no expectation that anybody should report back to me. Life moves on, families change and years disappear frighteningly quickly.
It is simply one of the things I find difficult about being a breeder.
And to those owners who have kept me in their dogs’ lives, thank you.
To those who still send the photographs, the videos, the little messages and the occasional update, whether your dog is two years old, ten years old or well into their teens, please know that I never take those messages for granted.
Thank you for remembering that somewhere there is still a breeder who remembers exactly where your dog came into the world, who they were as a tiny puppy and what it felt like to place them into your arms.
Thank you for allowing me to watch from the sidelines as that tiny puppy became your dog.
It means more to me than you probably know. ❤️
And if you have a dog from a breeder you haven’t spoken to for a long time, perhaps send them a photograph today.
It doesn’t have to be a big achievement or an important milestone. It can simply be, “Look at them now.”
Because for you, it might be a quick photograph or a 30-second message.
For the person who remembers that dog before they even opened their eyes, it can mean an enormous amount.
They may have left our homes many years ago, but some of us never really stop wondering how our babies are doing. ❤️