Kristin and her new math and more pure honesty

A reader pointed out to me today that the puppies are actually five months. I keep trying to age them. They won't be six months until the 26th of June. This is a classic - I was quite sure Fury was turning 8 this year (she's not, she turned 7), and I keep doing that to the puppies. So, happily, if Rippa weighs as much as Fury at this point (and she does), and Daca is close behind, that means that none of the litter (although possibly Piper) is gonna be uber tiny and that is awesome. My bet on the breeding probably worked out.

This same person also sent me a kind note about how much she likes the blog, but how it reinforces the idea that one should leave breeding to folks such as myself. Hah. Kathy Warren warned me that some people are just not breeders and I am quite sure I probably am not. People ask me when they see the puppies if I breed Aussies. My response is usually, "Uhh . . . I have bred. This is my only litter, but I've been in the breed for nearly twenty years."

And while I am glad people like the blog, it often feels kind of narcissistic. My mom keeps telling me to stop being so honest about the puppies with their structure and downfalls and what have you, but it's always been my m.o. to be so open it pisses people off. So, there you have it.

In the vein of this, honestly, I don't know that I will ever breed again. It would take a long waiting list of people chomping at the bit for this. I have been wanting to do a litter for a very, very long time. Fury was pre-planned when I was about 14. I wanted a red merle female from Slash V lines. I wanted to a SVCH on this dog, and honestly, I really am over the titles, but she's helped me reached my goals. I have wanted to do a litter with her for a long time, but it was always back and forth about if it would be good for the breed, good for her, good for my goals, good for the owners. But it was all in theory, and in life, the experience is very different.

I played at the idea for a while and there never was a good time. I am not loaded financially, I am very busy building a future for myself, and I frankly am quite happy just having one dog. But this has been something I wanted. I tried AI with a dog that passed away and it failed. I was sure that was my sign not to do it. But every time I go out to train Fury I think, "Geez, this is totally the kind of dog that says "Australian Shepherd." I felt very idealistic about doing it. I made very calculated decisions based on risk and potential in choosing my sire.

There was one morning, about a week before I was to fly the Fury out that I am lying on Yishai's bed and literally crying because I felt like I was sending her off to be put to sleep or something. I was just sending her to Anne's to get bred, but it felt horrible. He told me my decision was a good one, that I was making a good choice, and that he'd be there for me when I needed it.

Fury came back and she was grunty and kind of cranky right away. We wondered if she was just getting old and would always be that way. How sad if that was true. She steadily got bigger but being a bit of a pessimist, I assumed it was imagination or fat until I could not deny it (she'd had a false pregnancy with the AI). Poor thing got towed along behind me on runs right up until the very end as I wanted her very, very fit for the birth. The birth went really well and I felt like I had a handle on it. I survived docking the tails without support . . . raising the puppies was pretty easy. Fury went back to being her happy self, no sign of the "age" symptoms that were probably just hormone and nausea stuff from being pregnant.

But the one thing that happened that I didn't want to have happen - Daca came back. And it drives me crazy because who Daca is, is the exact reason I bred this litter. She has the same basic attitude about working and about her family as Fury. She's an improvement on all fronts, but the home I sent her to wasn't prepared to handle her, and now I'm picking up the pieces of that. Being someone who tends to guilt herself to death, sometimes I wake up and go, "Ugh, what have I wrought?" It is so hard to go out and socialize her and not see clear progress each day.  I've gotten into a fight with my sister over it - she kept trying to find homes for her in my old hometown and I was like, "She's not a family dog" and my not trusting her pissed her off. I don't really trust myself in placing Daca. I was very clear about her temperament and potential the first time.

I look at the rest of the puppies and try to focus on that. Bekka sends me love notes about Piper. Reid (Deedles) loves his kids and his momma and Patrick's glad he chose him. Emma is the star of her puppy obedience class, is loved at the Alzheimer's home, and is just pure Goodness to her family and everyone she encounters. Moto went to a first time dog home that's doing an amazing job with him and unlocking his potential by discovering the joys of stockdog clinics and obedience training and aussies in general (and I was really scared about sending him out there). And Rippa? Yishai has one totally uncomplicated thing in his life to love completely and dote on, and from my standpoint, she's the pick of the litter not just because he chose her, but because she's exactly what I'd hoped would come out of it - I love her structure, her quirks, her intelligence, her color, her attitude.

I am very proud of the job I did with them - they aren't bitey or chewy puppies, they're the stars of their training classes, all of them except Daca are tractable with people they encounter, and they're all flipping beautiful puppies that I am proud to have my permanent kennel name on. I like to think my years of experience, research, and study made a huge difference here, that it wasn't pure luck,  and I think it happened because this was the time to make it happen.

But Daca still makes me somewhat regret it. Everyone tells me she just needs a suitable home, and I agree, but I can tell you now that my home is not it. I wonder what the future holds for her, I wonder what the right thing to do is by her. For all the mentors and helpers I have in my life, I feel utterly alone in this, probably because it's my big scarlet letter. There's a home out there that's perfect for her, but I don't know how to find it and how not to scare it away.