The Daily Five: When Loving Them Also Means Letting Them Go

There is an old saying among dog breeders:

“You can't keep them all.”

I have never particularly liked that saying. Perhaps because somewhere along the way, I took it as a challenge. Why can't I? I can take excellent care of my dogs. I can feed them wonderful food. I can provide excellent veterinary care. I can groom them, train them, give them safe places to play and sleep, and surround them with other pugs they know and love.

And we have done exactly that for many years. But recently I have begun asking myself a different question. Is providing a good life the same thing as providing each individual pug the richest life I possibly can? I'm beginning to realize that those aren't necessarily the same thing.

The Daily Five
I started thinking about what a pug really needs from us each day—not the obvious things like food, water, veterinary care and a safe home, but the little things that make a dog feel like an individual rather than simply one member of a group.

I came up with five:
1. Notice Me. Look at me. Say my name. Look into my eyes. Notice whether I'm happy today, whether something seems different, whether I'm asking you for something—or simply asking you to see me.
2. Touch Me. Brush me. Wipe my face. Rub my ears. Run your hands over my coat. Give me a little massage. Hands-on care isn't only grooming. It is another way we communicate with our dogs—and often how we discover small changes before they become larger ones.
3. Hold Me. Pugs were bred to be companions. Pick me up. Hold me properly. Let me sit in your lap. Cuddle me on the sofa. Let me feel your warmth and hear your voice. There is something profoundly comforting to a companion dog about simply being held by the person he loves.
4. Do Something With Me. This may be my favorite. It doesn't have to be a training session. Train me. Play with me. Take me outside. Throw a toy. Practice a trick. Go for a ride. Let me sniff something interesting. Take me to the mailbox. Sit with me on the porch. It doesn't matter very much what the something is. What matters is the with me.
5. Choose Me. This one is different. You can hold three pugs on a sofa. You can play with several pugs in the yard. You can give everyone a treat and tell everyone they're wonderful. But sometimes a dog needs to know: Out of everybody, today you chose me. Take me with you. Let me be the one who rides in the car. Let me follow you while you work. Let me sit beside you while you practice the piano. Let me be the only pug in the room for a little while. For five minutes, or an afternoon, let it be just you and me.

When One Little Pug Gets to Be the Only Pug
Our Princess Buttercup is almost nine years old.  Recently she went to work with my husband, Jeff, at the church. Usually, it is a puppy or a younger pug who goes to work for the socialization opportunity. But, today, it was a 9 year old long time family member. There was nothing particularly exciting about her day. She wasn't competing in a dog sport. She wasn't performing. There wasn't a party planned for her. She simply went to work with Jeff. She sat beside his feet while he worked at his desk. When he got up, she followed him. She trotted along with him, off leash, throughout the church. And she was so happy. She wasn't one of the Pickwick pugs that day. She was Jeff's dog. She had been chosen. Another of our pugs, Lilly, taught me something similar. At one point she had become thin and just didn't seem herself. We were concerned about her. I took her camping with me, along with 2 younger pugs who had attended a dog show the week before. Lilly became my special dog for the trip. I hand-fed her. She went everywhere with me. Because she could be trusted off leash, she had freedoms that made her feel important and included. And Lilly blossomed. She returned to being Lilly. 

Those experiences have stayed with me. 

The Part of Breeding That Breaks Your Heart
There is something breeders don't always talk about. When you build a breeding program, you keep puppies. You keep the promising daughter because she represents the next generation. You keep another because she carries something important from her mother. You bring in another line. You keep a male. You keep an outcross.

Years pass. Those puppies become adults. Some become champions. Some become mothers and fathers. Some contribute exactly what you hoped they would. Others teach you something different. Eventually their contribution to the breeding program is complete. And there they are. Not breeding stock. Not pedigrees. Not genetic possibilities. Your dogs. Your family members.  Dogs you delivered into your own hands. Dogs you raised. Dogs who slept in your lap as puppies. Dogs whose personalities you know as intimately as you know those of the people in your family.

And sometimes you realize that another home might be able to give one of those dogs something you cannot give in unlimited quantities: undivided attention.

That realization hurts. We have considered placing adult dogs before. More than once, I have found a home, announced that a pug was available—and then backed out. We couldn't do it. We loved them. And somewhere inside me was still that stubborn thought: We can give this dog a good life. And we could. But I am beginning to understand that this isn't always the right question.

A Different Question
Perhaps the question breeders should ask when a dog's breeding career is finished is this:
Is this dog particularly happy and fulfilled remaining here—with the pack, the people, the activities and the life we offer?

Or:

Could this dog have an even richer life as somebody's beloved companion?
For some dogs, the answer will absolutely be: Stay. This is home. Their relationships are here. Their lives are rich here. They may have activities they adore and roles that give their days meaning. For another dog, however, there may be a person somewhere who wants exactly that dog. Someone whose sofa has room for one pug. Someone who wants a little shadow following them from room to room. Someone who wants a rally partner, a therapy dog, a walking companion, a traveling companion—or simply a warm pug curled against them every evening. 

That person may be able to offer something even the most devoted breeder with many dogs cannot manufacture more of:  time.

There are only so many hours in a day.

Placing Isn't the Opposite of Loving
Perhaps this is the lesson I have had the hardest time learning. Keeping a dog isn't necessarily proof that we love her more. And placing a dog isn't necessarily giving her away. Sometimes we may actually be giving her something. A person of her own. A lap of her own. Adventures of her own. The chance to walk into a room and know that every time someone says, “Want to come?” they probably mean her. For a breeder, saying goodbye to an older puppy or an adult can be heartbreaking.

We will miss them. Sometimes terribly. I keep photos of pugs we have placed who were older (beyond the 12 week gotcha day) on my mirrors around the house and such. I dream about them. I worry about them. I cry and rejoice simultaneously when I see amazing updates from their owners. 

But missing a dog does not mean placing that dog was the wrong decision.

Our sadness and their happiness can exist at the same time. Or at least this is the reason I am writing this blog ..... to try and teach myself. And perhaps that is one of the final responsibilities of a breeder: not simply deciding which puppies should stay to build the next generation, but recognizing when a beloved adult no longer needs to stay for us.

So I have put a reminder where I will see it every day. On the front of the fridge. 

The Daily Five
NOTICE ME
See me.
TOUCH ME
Care for me.
HOLD ME
Give me affection.
DO SOMETHING WITH ME
Share a little piece of life with me.
CHOOSE ME
Sometimes, let me be the only pug.

I don't expect perfection. There will always be busy days. But I want these five little things to remain possible. And if the number of dogs in our home ever makes even these simple things feel overwhelming, then perhaps the answer isn't to become better at managing more dogs. Perhaps the answer is to lovingly find extraordinary homes for some of them.

Because ultimately, the question isn't: “Can we keep them all?”
Of course we can.

The question we need to ask is: “Should we?”

And perhaps loving them enough to answer that question truthfully is part of being their breeder, too.