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These are the dogs that I have fostered in the last year, thanks to FOHA they are all alive, happy and healthy in wonderful forever homes:

If you ever considered breeding...

...you might want to read this first

Thing to Consider Before You Breed

Lately you've given some thought to breeding your dog. She is of course an ideal candidate in your opinion. After all, everyone who comes in contact with her thinks she's adorable and many family and friends have said they would love to have a puppy from her if you decide to breed her.

Perhaps you bought your female from a nice couple that live on a farm and breed a few litters a year. You found their ad in your local paper, called and visited the puppies. Granted the environment left a bit to be desired but the puppies were so cute. One in particular pulled on your heartstrings and you felt this overwhelming need to rescue her. So you brought your new bundle of joy home the same day, even though she wasn't yet 8 weeks old. The breeder told you she was eating on her own so she could go to her new home. You took her to the Vet for a check up and shots and the Vet informs you that she has a hernia, but it's not a bad one and if you like they can repair it when she is spayed. He also notices she has mites and sends you home with medication.

Fast forward to a year and a half old. You decided not to have her spayed because you are still debating on letting her have just one litter. Her hernia hasn't gotten any worse so you figure it really isn't that bad. You decide you'd like to breed her on her next season, so you start doing some research on possible stud dogs for her. You find some gorgeous looking stud dogs after browsing some show breeders websites. You call a few and they ask you questions about your female: What is her pedigree? You can't answer that because you don't have her pedigree. They ask what health tests you have had done on her? You answer none. They ask if she has been shown or is a finished champion? You answer no. They go on to ask a few more questions and by this time your thoroughly discouraged at the prospect of being able to use one of their stud dogs. Actually, you decide your rather offended by the questions... Sheesh, you just want to breed your dog!

So you then contact some non-show breeders about their studs. Granted their studs don't look nearly as nice as the show breeders studs and these breeders don't ask you any questions except for when did she come in season and then proceed to tell you they have a stud and what the stud fee is. So you make arrangements to take your female to the non-show breeder to be bred. You think you have the timing correct, but you aren't positive because you didn't do any progesterone tests as you feel they are too expensive. You get there and pay the $800 stud fee. The stud breeds your girl but she fights and screams, so you and the stud owner hold her so she can be bred. Once finished you put her back in the car to head home. She appears tramatized by the whole ordeal but you figure she'll get over it.

Two months later your female goes into labor around 8 o'clock at night. All appears to be normal until a couple hours go by with her straining and not producing a puppy. So you call the Vet only to find a recording telling you to call the emergency Vet office after hours. So you call them and tell them what's going on and that your female now has green fluid and some blood coming out of her. They tell you to get her to the clinic ASAP. Once there the Vet tells you that she needs a emergency C-section. At this point you are a nervous wreck and pace back and forth in the waiting room waiting for news.

Finally, one of the techs comes out to tell you that the first two puppies were born dead. They believe that there are 3 more and will come back out with more information when they are done. After another hour the Vet brings you into a room to deliver the devastating news that your female died on the operating table due to a ruptured uterus. He says they were able to save 3 of the 6 puppies. The third one born had a cleft palate and had to be put down. You are hysterical at this point. Not only did you lose your beloved female but half of her litter. The Vet tries to console you and get you calmed down. He then explains that you'll need to tube feed the puppies every two hours around the clock and shows you how to do it. It simply terrifies you to put a tube down their throat and pump puppy milk into their tummies. But you know it has to be done so you pay the $1,500 Vet bill, take the puppies and instructions and head home.

The following days are a living nightmare. Besides having virtually no sleep yourself, one puppy died after two days and your not sure why. Seems it got cold and wasn't thriving. Of the remaining two, you are pretty sure one of them has pnemonia as it sounds raspy and acts listless. You take them to the Vet who confirms the one has pnemonia and gives you some antibiotics to start him on. You pay the bill and head home. Another week later the raspy male died and his remaining only sibling also appears to have pnemonia. Back to the Vet you go and again he confirms the pnemonia and gives you more medication. You pay the bill and head home. You try everything you can to save that one remaining puppy but to no avail.

In retrospect, what seemed like a innocent endeavor to breed your female just one time in order to have puppies for friends and family has cost you greatly. Not only did you have a huge financial burden, but an emotional one as well. You lost your female and all of her puppies.

This story is purely fictional, but it happens so often and the scenerio is very familiar in most cases. It's important to thoroughly research before you breed and breed for the right reasons. Your beloved pet wasn't meant to be bred, she was meant to be a pet. Don't risk her life by breeding her!! Unless you are willing to thoroughly education yourself on breeding, do all the required health testing, show your dog to determine if she is conformationally a good candidate, and willing to take the risk that things will and do go wrong, then it's best to leave the breeding to the professionals. Instead enjoy your female as a loving companion and have her spayed./

Author Kelle Arvay is a show breeder of AKC Champion Pugs.
http://www.journeywithpugs.blogspot.com

© Copyright 2008 ArvayPugs.com

For Those Who rescue II:

When you get discouraged and overwhelmed, when you feel like there is too much to do, too many dogs dying and feel like you don't do enough, remember the story of the starfish:

A vacationing businessman was walking along a beach when he saw a young boy. Along the shore were many starfish that had been washed up by the tide and were sure to die before the tide returned. The boy walked slowly along the shore and occasionally reached down and tossed the beached starfish back into the ocean. The businessman, hoping to teach the boy a little lesson in common sense, walked up to the boy and said, "I have been watching what you are doing, son. You have a good heart, and I know you mean well, but do you realize how many beaches there are around here and how many starfish are dying on every beach every day. Surely such an industrious and kind hearted boy such as yourself could find something better to do with your time. Do you really think that what you are doing is going to make a difference?"

The boy looked up at the man, and then he looked down at a starfish by his feet. He picked up the starfish, and as he gently tossed it back into the ocean, he said, "It makes a difference to that one."

You can't save every dog, but you can save the one in front of you.

For Those Who Rescue:

I would've died that day if not for you.
I would've given up on life
if not for your kind eyes.
I would've used my teeth in fear
if not for your gentle hands.
I would have left this life believing
that all humans don't care,
Believing there is no such thing
as fur that isn't matted,
skin that isn't flea bitten,
good food and enough of it,
beds to sleep on,
someone to love me, to show me
I deserve love just because I exist.
Your kind eyes, your loving smile,
your gentle hands
Your big heart saved me...
You saved me from
the terror of the pound,
soothing away the
memories of my old life.
You have taught me
what it means to be loved.
I have seen you do the same
for other dogs like me.
I have heard you ask yourself
in times of despair why you do it
when there is no more money,
no more room, no more homes.
You open your heart a little bigger,
stretch the money a little tighter,
make just a little more room...
to save one more like me.
I tell you with the gratitude
and love that shines in my eyes
In the best way I know how-
Reminding you why you go on trying.
I am the reason.
The dogs before me are the reason,
as are the ones who come after.
Our lives would've been wasted,
our love never given.
We would die if not for you.

-Author Unknown

About A Girl...

So I always loved animals, since day one. Sir David Attenborough was always my hero and the animal programs were more frequent than the kids shows growing up...

I had several pets growing up, most of them "unwanted pets" that I got from various places. A parakeet named Frida that I got from my cousins where she used to sit in her cage on top of a bookcase day in and day out until she came to our house. A gerbil named Zorro that a girl from school had shoplifted to seem cool and burnt it's whiskers off with a cigarette. A rat named Cobra Rax that my grown brother had gotten for Christmas from friends and would just feed it french fries and was gonna give it to a friend with snakes. A guinea pig. A small lizard. More rats. Many, many fish...

But never a dog. I always knew we were never gonna have a dog when I was a kid. It was somehow understood. My mother loves dogs, but I knew it was just not gonna happen. My grandparents used to have a Daschhund when my mom was little and my grandmother would always say that when she retired she would get a another dog. So I simply assumed that you had to be retired to own a dog, calmly accepted the fact and looked forward to retirement and my very own dog.

The years went by. I grew up, moved out, got married and ended up in America. And I now knew that I didn't actually have to be retired to own a dog, but could get a dog whenever I pleased! I talked it over with my husband for several years, we wanted to make sure that it was the right time. I started working as a freelance illustrator from home and had all the time in the world so we started looking.

Rescue vs. breeder, that was the question. After a negative experience with a very rude and uncooperative Miniature Bull Terrier breeder in New Hampshire I decided I would rather go the rescue route that give my hard earned money to a grumpy breeder. But getting a rescue puppy was harder that we had expected, especially when you don't know where to start. I really wanted a puppy since it was my first dog. But there are few puppies for adoption and they go very fast! We did find a nice shelter in Salem that rescued dogs and puppies from Puerto Rico so we started frequenting them.
But it was never a match. My husband was getting impatient saying "Let's just get one, they're all so cute!", but I wanted to do it right. I wanted that cute puppy to be a good fit even when it was grown up. We had both agreed that a small breed was for us. I always loved Bull terriers and French Bulldogs, and my husband was partial to Jack Russells or Beagles. Well, we never found either.

Several months go by. My husband calls me one afternoon saying he's downstairs and he needs help. And "bring a towel, someone got sick in the car". Well, he's a painting contractor and for a split second I'm thinking one of his guys is sick. hen I get the hunch. That feeling in my gut that he's done something sporadic. I grab a towel and run down to the street, and sure enough: There's my husband in the car with the biggest grin and the tiniest little brown puppy! He tells me a guy on the job had a Jack Russell, he asked where he got it, and went to the store that was just down the street. He was given a Jack Russell puppy, but it kept frantically circling him and biting his fingers so he was a bit put off. Then this tiny little puppy crawls over and lays down on his lap. he asks what kind of dog it is and they tell him "it's a Jug, a Pug/Jack Russell mix".

At this point I am so conflicted with emotions I don't know what to do whith myself. A part of me is so unbelievably excited, I have a dog! But another part of me is furious! How could he buy a dog from a petstore! Of all horrible places! I try not to hurt his so obviously extremely proud feelings but quietly ask why he had to get a puppymill puppy. He looks heartbroken and says maybe she's not from a puppymill. I leave it alone not to ruin the moment, but we decide to visit the store the next day.

"Missy's Puppy Land" was the sadest place I've ever visited. Cage after cage of poor emaciated puppies, most way too young to be taken from their mothers. The salesgirl asks what dog we might be interested in and keeps trying to pry this one or that one on us, like we were buying shoes. I felt sick and we left. My husband was crushed. He didn't realize where the puppies came from, he just wanted to surprise me. I told him there was no way I was bringing the puppy back to that place. She was staying. And so Bela was a part of the family.