Doodle Doings

To get to my house!

Yesterday was one of those glorious spring days. Temperature near 70, sunny, and, while rain was in the near future, it wasn’t here yet so my yard was not a mud pit. Time to get some of the gardening done! Marley and Daisy were in the yard (outside the garden fence…GOOD GIRLS!) playing with a plastic horseshoe they had dug from the trash. In a very un-Marley like moment, Marley burst through the garden fence and charged the back fence at the easement, roaring furiously. She is generally very laidback, I looked up to see what could possibly have set her off. A chicken.

Now, this is not the first time we have seen chickens in the area, despite the fact that we are smack dab in the middle of a major urban center. A neighbor about a block down has a flock. About once a year a small cadre escapes and I see them on the street in the front of my house. I usually herd them back down the street with a broom. It does seem like an awfully long walk for a chicken.

But this was the first time I had seen one in the back. I trapped her in the corner of a fence, and she actually was pretty tame, much more than I had remembered from previous encounters. This should have been my first clue. As I tucked her under my arm I catch a flash of white from the corner of my eye. Oh my. Two more chickens….a white one and a black one. No way I could catch them, I only had one hand free because the other had a chicken in it! I told my younger son, who was working outside with me, to stand and make sure renegade chickens did not get past him as they were basically trapped unless they wanted to fight their way past him. I walked the block down the easement to Ann’s place. Although she was not home, a bunch of chickens were, in a coop with a sign on it that said, “When chickens are outlawed, only outlaws will have chickens.” I checked all around the coop and couldn’t determine an illicit exit point for a chicken. It occurred to me this was not THIS chicken’s home. What would happen if I put a chicken in with a bunch of strange chickens? I didn’t know, and didn’t want to find out. I headed to the front of the house, still carrying the chicken, when someone pulled into the driveway. A woman got out of her truck and said, “Oh man….did my mom’s chickens get out again?” “I don’t know. I couldn’t find how this one would have gotten out.” We walked back, Jenny counted the chickens and said, “Nope, all seven are here, that one is not ours. And besides, ours would never let you hold them like that!” Great. A homeless….but friendly…….. chicken.

We went back to my house to find my son in tears. Marley and Daisy, excited at the prospect of dinner on the fly, had jumped our fence into the easement. Gus, using remarkably good judgment for a nine year old, realized he was more responsible for the dogs than for the chickens, and managed to lift both dogs (25 and 40 lbs!) back up and over our fence. While his back was turned, the two chickens had disappeared.

I put the captive chicken in the bathroom, sent Gus back to walk along the easement in back, while I decided to walk along the street in front. I had barely gotten to the end of my driveway when a police car pulled up. I hardly ever see police cars on our street, and I must have a guilty conscience because having him pull in my driveway really set off some anxiety. He says, “Did you call us?” “Uhhhhhh….no. Should I have called you?” “Someone called us. Is there something going on around here?” “Well, there are some lost chickens loose, but I’m thinking you’re not asking about chickens.” This brought a roar of laughter, and was clearly the high point of his day. ” No, not chickens. Someone called and said someone in a silver Milano was driving up and down hitting people up for drug money. Call us if you see anything.” “Yes, sir.”

A half hour of searching revealed that a neighbor on the other side of the easement, a few houses down, had gotten chickens a several months earlier. They were still getting the hang of it. I returned their chicken from my bathroom, the other two were found hiding behind a pile of mulch. A happy ending this time!

A discussion of factors involved in balancing the risk of parvo virus infection in young puppies versus the need for socialization.

See more at http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1533933/balancing_parvo_risk_and_the_need_for.html

I answer questions every day from people considering buying my puppies. Getting to know people virtually is great fun, and it is then almost like a reunion if I get to meet them in real life when they pick up their puppy. We often stay in contact for years, with pictures as the puppy grows, holiday cards and updates.

It is a particular joy to work with first-time dog owners. Of course, getting a puppy is a big event in anyone’s life, but especially so for someone who has never had a dog because they are allergic to dogs and thought it would never be possible. Or for someone who grew up with dogs but then had a child who is allergic to dogs and they have avoided getting a dog for that reason. So the fact that I can bring the joy of a non-allergenic puppy into the life of someone who thought they could never experience that is an experience I treasure.

Everyone is a novice at some time, in something. I tell people all the time that there is no shame at starting at the beginning, and I encourage people to ask any and all questions that occur to them. I believe that the more questions they ask and the more answers they get, the more prepared they will be when their new addition arrives. Of course everyone has heard stories about things puppies or dogs might do. “My Dog Marley” has been a great asset in terms of starting the conversation about what you might experience when you have a dog. One of my favorite questions is, “Will s/he chew?” I always send this picture in answer to that question:

Goldendoodle puppy: "It was Ernie's fault!"

Yes, your puppy will chew! And they will grow out of it. This little devil is Rouge, who has grown up to be a perfect companion, and spends her days schmoozing at a tennis club with her guardian.

The other picture I send to give them a dose of reality with these:

Labradoodle puppies had fun in the mud!

How many paws?

I am afraid I have occasionally scared off buyers with my graphic honesty about the realities of having a puppy in one’s life. That might not be an altogether bad thing. Although it might cost me a sale in the short run, I think it is worth it in the long run if it prevents a family from taking on a puppy when they are not ready. Timing, and preparation, means mean the difference between failure and success!

And success is sweet:

Friends forever: a Goldendoodle and his girl

Westood Labradoodles, Goldendoodles, and North American Retrievers : my website!

The Doodle Zoo: The Ultimate Online, Offleash Dogpark:  A wonderful, friendly, informative discussion forum comprised of Doodle Owners, Doodle Breeders, and Doodle afficienados.  Surf over and introduce yourself!

International Doodle Owners Group (IDOG):  The first, last and every word in between Doodle Information Source.  Information about Doodle Rescue, selecting a Doodle breeder, Doodle Growth and training and more.

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Double Doodle (North American Retriever) puppies at Westwood

Some days it seems like 24 is not nearly enough, and then some days seem like they go on forever. And if you don’t sleep, sometimes they all run together and it really doesn’t matter! This past week was like that.

Reese’s due date was March 7, but as I do with all my expecting moms, I had been taking her temperature 3 times a day for a week before that. This was her first pregnancy, and I really didn’t know if she would follow the common pattern of having a drop in her body temperature 12-24 hours before her labor begins, but I could always hope! About a week before her due date I also started having her spend time in the whelping (birthing) area, so she would be comfortable there when the time came for her to give birth. Reese is very attached to me, spending most of her time laying on my feet when I am not moving, and sometimes even when I am! This meant I needed to spend time out in the whelping area with her. So for the last few days I had been spending any computer time at the laptop out in ‘Puppyland’.

My intuition was that Reese was going to deliver early. Although she was settling in OK in Puppyland for short periods, I decided that she really needed to become comfortable spending the night out there too. So on Tuesday night I said goodnight to my family and headed to Puppyland with Reese to spend the night out there.

A couple years ago I built a loft bed up over the whelping pen so I am able to catch a few winks when a mom is in labor or there are new puppies. Reese did not like having me up over head! She would pace, pace, pace as soon as I got into the bed. I was hopeful that if I just gave her some time she would settle in, but my hopes were seriously misplaced. She was panting and pacing as though she was in labor! I checked her temperature, and it was normal, but she did not stop pacing even if I got out of bed and sat with her. Not all dogs have a temperature drop, or sometimes it is so brief that I can miss it. I began to think that maybe she really was in labor. So Tuesday night passed alternating between sitting up with Reese, and trying to rest in the bed with Reese pacing and panting.

Wednesday came and went, getting Shane to school, doing schoolwork with Gus, seeing clients, doing laundry, just a usual day except for the fact that the only sleep I had in 24 hours was the one hour nap I took at lunchtime on Wednesday. Reese, however, napped very well during the day and seemed none the worse for wear.

Wednesday night I took Reese out to the whelping area and again I climbed into the loft. And again Reese started pacing. I took her temperature and it was 98.5! 99 is the magic number; when it drops below that is when I know almost for certain that pups are on the way! More pacing, more panting. A very long night I spent sitting with Reese and playing Scrabble online, although by 3AM there is not even anyone to play Scrabble with! I wondered where all the Australian Scrabble players were….it’s daytime in OZ when it’s 3AM EST, right?

I got Shane off to school and got Gus started on his school work, but was too tired, distracted and anxious to really be effective at much of anything. I puttered, updating the website, organizing things out in Puppyland. I managed to make and have dinner with my family, got the kids to bed, and headed out to Puppyland to make coffee. Again, the only sleep I had that day was the one hour nap I took at lunch!

Reese started pushing at about 9:15 PM. She was clearly miserable, not really knowing what was going on! I sat in the whelping pen with her entire upper body in my lap, the side of her face pressed into my hands, both of us with eyes mostly closed. At first the contractions were mild, but by about 10 PM they were rippling strongly from her chest to her tail. I was starting to get concerned that she was not making progress, and inserted a finger into her vagina to see if I could feel a pup. Nothing.

At about 10:15 I saw a few drops of very dark blood, and my heart went first to my mouth, and then hit rock bottom. This was a very bad sign. It almost always means a placenta has separated from the wall of the uterus, leaving the puppy supplied by that placenta without any oxygen supply from mom. Reese was pushing hard, and I again inserted a finger. I could feel a pup! It was about an inch from making its appearance in the outside world. But it wasn’t getting any closer. I checked again; I could feel the head but there was nothing to grab on to in order to pull it out, and it was wedged too tight to push it back in to try to shift it to a better angle for delivery. Minutes passed, with Reese pushing and me trying to get my finger in around the pup to stretch the tissues enough to allow the pup to progress further. I was sure the puppy was dead, my concern at this point was Reese, and the other pups trapped inside. Millimeter by millimeter with each contraction the pup was moving towards me. At the height of one contraction I actually saw a tiny tongue, smaller than my smallest fingernail, and heard the smallest of gasps. Then the contraction ended and and the pup’s nose disappeared back inside. The puppy was alive. Oh my God the puppy was alive. Reese was getting tired, and her contractions were weakening just when we needed them to be getting stronger. I popped a Tums in her mouth, hoping that the calcium would increase the strength of the contractions. I was talking in a low, continuous stream, trying to calm both Reese and myself, saying anything that came into my mind. “Come on Reese, you can do it. This puppy wants to live, please push. Hang in there….please push, this puppy wants to live!” With each contraction the puppy’s nose would appear and I would hear another tiny gasp, only to see the puppy’s air cut off when the contraction ended and the pup would be sucked back inside. One strong contraction revealed delicate toenails, and I realized why the puppy was stuck. It had started its descent into the birth canal with one front leg laying up along side its head, which hugely increased the diameter of its should girdle. But that paw was just what I needed. At the next contraction I grasped the paw and tried to extract the puppy, but it was too slippery, and again the puppy was again sucked back inside. Another contraction, another attempt to pull it out, another failure. The third time I pinched that little paw as hard as I could, knowing that I could break the puppy’s leg or dislocate its shoulder. I didn’t have a choice, I had to get the puppy out. At the end of that contraction I did manage to hang on to the paw, and with the next contraction I applied a steady traction and the puppy popped out. It had been an hour since I saw those first drops of dark blood.

I cut the cord and rubbed the puppy, a beautiful apricot-colored little girl who was so exhausted she was barely moving. But with some help she did manage to latch on and within a few minutes of getting a little nourishment she was nursing vigorously. I, on the other hand, was shaking so badly I couldn’t stand, and was laying in the whelping box. Reese and I were both panting, and covered in blood and meconium.

Over the next few hours Reese easily delivered another girl and two boys, all apricot and caramel colored. I was very surprised at this, as Reese is a chocolate, as is Scooter, the daddy, and statistically I was expecting 50% of the pups to be chocolate! So much for statistics. At 4AM, out popped a white puppy with chocolate markings, looking like a tiny holstein. I could not have been more surprised, except that 15 seconds later, before I could even cut the cord on the one pup, out popped another one with the same markings. Two partis! Parti coloration, meaning predominantly white with dark markings, is recessive. This means both parents must carry the gene, and while I knew Scooter carried it, I had no idea Reese did! Whoo hoo PARTI TIME!

As is typical with breeding, nothing matches the highs except the lows. I few minutes after those two healthy, beautiful parti girls were born, the last pup, a lovely, fleece-coated boy was still born. I performed chest compressions and mouth-to-mouth for a long time, but could not revive him. His placenta had likely been the one that separated and resulted in the dark blood I had seen hours before, and he never really had a chance.

So the final count was 6 live puppies, 4 girls and 2 boys. I got Reese settled in with her breakfast and some water, showered, and slept from 5:30 AM to 6:30 AM, and then started another day with my family by getting the kids out of bed. Friday was my third day in a row with one hour of sleep in a 24 hour period. I think my kids are getting used to me stumbling around like a zombie!

The First Family announced recently that the First Dog would be a Portuguese Water dog.  I have mixed feelings about this on a number of levels.

As a Labradoodle breeder, I am actually somewhat relieved that the First Dog will not be a doodle.  There are already bunches of people who have jumped on the ‘Designer Dog’ bandwagon in the last few years, hoping to charge big bucks for the dogs and supplement their income.  Little do they know how really expensive it is to breed responsibly, and how emotionally demanding.  Had the Obama’s chosen to get a Labradoodle, I am sure it would have resulted in an even larger production of poorly bred Labradoodles.

Had the choice for First Dog been a Labradoodle, I believe there would have been a great deal more pressure on the Obamas to adopt a dog from rescue. Because of all those folks jumping on the bandwagon mentioned above, there are a fair number of Labradoodles in rescue.  Most of the Labradoodles in rescue are first generation Labradoodles and therefore not allergy-friendly, so they would not be an appropriate choice for the Obamas anyway.  And like any other family with young children, the First Family needs to be extremely careful to adopt a dog with a known background in order to insure the dog is good with the kids.  This is very challenging to accomplish when choosing a dog from rescue.  But because of the availability of Labradoodles in rescue, there was pressure on the Obamas to rescue one.  It is politically much more acceptable for the Obamas to get a Portuguese Water Dog (PWD) from a breeder than to get a Labradoodle from a breeder, because of the lack of PWD available in rescue.

So even while I understand that the choice of a PWD was politically easier, and probably better for the Labradoodle community, I do feel it would have been better for the First Family to choose a Labradoodle.

Well-bred Labradoodles are bred to be family pets.  There is no higher priority for a Labradoodle breeder than to produce dogs of good temperament.  PWD breeders, on the other hand, have other considerations when they breed; they breed for the show ring, and breed towards a standard of conformation and appearance.  PWD can be stubborn, and no attempt is really made to selectively breed away from this as eliminating that trait is not the first goal of PWD breeders.  Labradoodle breeders, without the pressures of breeding for a breed standard and the show ring, can concentrate on breeding the best, most trainable, companion.  It is what we do best.  I think a Labradoodle would have been a better choice for First Dog.

in Reese’s belly! Yep, I can sit here and see ripples just underneath the skin, puppies kicking and wiggling . I love that!

Reese is my F1B Goldendoodle that is expecting her first litter 3/7. Just as with people, due dates in dogs are an estimate. The actual time that it is safe for a dog to deliver puppies is about 5 or so days on either side of the due date, so Reese could actually deliver any time.

Reese’s litter is a first in several ways. It is her first litter, as I mentioned above. It is also the first litter that resulted from a semen collection and insemination that I performed myself. As with any other set of skills, there is a learning curve, and I have tried collection and insemination two other times previously and the attempts did not result in pregnancies. So I am pretty excited that I got it right!

Only a small number of breeders utilize the technology available for artificial insemination (AI), and even fewer attempt it themselves, leaving those tasks to their reproductive veterinarian. In my mind, the advent of AI for canines ranks up there with the invention of sliced bread. Being able to use AI allows a breeder to consider studs that might otherwise be too small for the female, or that reside anywhere at all, as opposed to only those locally available. The chances of success in locating just the right match (in terms of coat, conformation, personality, etc) for a female skyrocket the more choices that are available. The opportunities for adding genetic diversity to lines are as wide as the world. In Reese’s case, the boy was just too short to be able to reach her, so AI was the only option.

The whole process of artificial insemination is not for the faint of heart, or the easily embarrassed, however. The broad outline of the process is probably pretty much as you imagine it to be. Semen is collected from the male, and placed into the female. Done deal, right?

Those of you who want to leave only those images in your head should close your browser window now, because the images that replace them will not be so simple.

Some males are easier to collect from than others, but in any case it involves using a plastic sleeve to collect the semen. Managing to control an excited boy enough to direct the semen into the sleeve without ruining his excitement is a real trick. And the process is longer than you might imagine. I remember reading an article about canine semen collection that said that just about the time you lost all feeling in your legs from crouching is when you will find success. They were wrong. The feeling had long left my legs by the time the collection was done, and that was only the first step. And this was not the kind of process for which one wants an audience either. Once when my vet was collecting from a boy we both looked up as a shadow passed by the glass part of the examining room door, both of us realizing at the exact same moment that if we could see into the lobby, from the right angle, people in the lobby could see into the examining room. There was a pause, and the vet said, “We really need blinds on that door. If my kids actually knew what I did for a living they would disown me.’”

After collection the semen is placed into a syringe attached to a long tube, and the tube is inserted into the female. The semen is deposited and the tube removed. Again, done deal, right? Wrong.

When dogs breed naturally they remained connected to each other, called a ‘tie’, for anywhere for 15 to 60 minutes. The tie causes contractions in the females reproductive tract that draw the semen into the uterus, and the length of the tie also insures that the semen has lots of opportunity to get pulled into the cervix before any leaks out.

During AI, of course, there is no tie. To simulate this the breeder, or vet, inserts a finger and pushes on the upper wall of the vagina to stimulate contractions in the female, a proces called ‘feathering’. The breeder then elevates the female’s hindquarters for at least 15 minutes, to avoid semen leakage for the bare minimum amount of time similar to a tie. So with no feeling in my legs, I was faced with just about the longest 15 minutes of my life, trying to keep Reese’s butt in the air. She thought this was great fun, and spent the whole time trying to swing around to lick my face. It was like wrestling an octopus. We did this 4 times durin one week to achieve this pregnancy. AND IT WORKED! I could see puppies rockin’ and rollin’ in her belly. Happy Days.

One of the four day old mini F1B Goldendoodlepuppies died today, a big healthy boy. They have all been doing really well, active and gaining weight. I checked them at about 6 AM, and let Rouge out and fed her. I went back a couple hours later and one of the pups was dead, just laying on his side with his mouth open. I think Rouge must have rolled over on him. She is a big girl at about 57 lbs with her ‘nursing weight’, and she would not have to lay on a pup for long for it to suffocate. The whelping pen has ‘pig rails’ installed…..foam noodles attached to the walls about 5 inches up from the bottom….that help keep this from happening more often. The rails mean mom can’t lean all the way up against the wall of the whelping pen, there is always a gap between her and the wall so a pup has a chance to wriggle back there and get out of the way. I can’t tell you how many times I have fished a pup out from behind a mom. But today it did not make a difference.

The saddest thing is that Rouge knows he is gone. I put him up on some towels on a shelf in the other room, intending to bury him later. I went back in to the whelping area an hour later, and all the towels were off the shelf and the puppy was gone. He was back with the other puppies in the whelping pen. Poor Rouge. I let her see him one more time and took him away.

This one was dated 2/26/09.

I love whelping puppies! I always get ‘pre-whelping jitters’, but once things get going I settle in. This time around I was not quite as nervious as I sometimes am, as Rouge is an experienced mom.

I have been taking Rouge’s temperature 3 times a day for almost a week now, waiting for it to go below 99 F and stay there. That means pups are likely to make their appearance within 12-24 hours. Her temperature was 98.6 yesterday (Wednesday 2/25) AM, so I was flitting in and out of the puppy area all day, really unable to concentrate on anything else! I was scheduled to take a Koryo Gundo workshop on Wednesday night, but I skipped it to sleep for an hour from 7-8 PM because I was pretty sure I was going to be up all night. A nap and two espressos and I was all ready!

Rouge never did do the usual panting-pacing-digging-at-the-bedding thing. I have a computer in the whelping room, and I was playing Scrabble online, looking up at Rouge in time to see what I could swear was the tail end of a contraction! WHAT? She was cool as a cucumber, not even breathing hard. I went back to playing Scrabble, but was sliding my gaze over to her every minute now. Yep, there was another one. How about that.

A few minutes later the first pup, made his appearance, 10:30 PM. I just love this. The puppy came out in his sac, attached to the placenta. I removed the sac and rubbed him down with a small square of terry cloth, he responded with a little gurgly squeak. I cut the cord and ‘slung’ him to get fluid out of his nostrils. This consists of placing the pup in the cloth, between my hands, puppy’s butt in my palms and the head stabilized by my fingers. I lean over so my torso is about parallel to the floor, and swing my arms in an arc, from right in front of me to back between my legs, repeating several times. The centrifugal force brings the fluid out of their nostrils in a much more gentle way than suctioning them with a bulb syringe. I placed him at a teat and he nursed immediately. Rouge began licking and cleaning him. All was right with the world.

Another followed at 11:30, another at 1AM. Then a VERY long wait. I was just getting worried when pup number 4 arrived at 4 AM, then another 3 between4AM and 6:30. All birthed easily, and began breathing as soon as I rubbed them with a towel, and all got the hang of nursing within seconds. I checked everyone over for birth defects. Cleft palates are not uncommon, and once I had 3 puppies born without anuses, so now I always check for that too. Everyone was healthy and Rouge was doing great. I could feel a lump in her belly, I wasn’t sure if there was another puppy in there. Two of the puppies were born without their placentas, and I wasn’t sure if the placentas were still in there, or if they had come out and Rouge had eaten them without me seeing. I couldn’t hear a a puppy heartbeat, but that is never a sure thing anyway because the puppy has to be in just the right position to catch a heartbeat with a stethescope. So I was kind of worried, but could only wait and watch.

6:30 AM saw what looked like the end of the whelping, but the beginning of my usual Thursday! I awoke the kids up at 7AM and got everyone ready for the day. Shane, my 13 year old, was happy, I was too tired to pack him a lunch so I gave him $2 to buy lunch at school. I usually have a sparring class on Thursday AM, but I made the amazingly responsible decision to skip it. I almost went, but when I was driving back from dropping Shane at the bus stop I found I was having trouble attending to traffic. I decided if I couldn’t keep track of cars when driving, getting in a ring with someone kicking at my head was probably not a great idea either.

Gus, my 9 year old that I homeschool, was also pretty happpy. It was a low-key day for him for school, and we spent the morning doing his work in the puppy area so we could easily keep track of how things were going with Rouge and the pups. I went to my office and worked with one client for an hour (I am also a massage therapist). Back home to check on our new little family. I will continue to track Rouge’s temperature 3-4 times a day to make sure she is not developing an infection. Pyometra, a deadly uterine infection, can develop rapidly and without any symptoms except a fever until it is too late.

So here it is Thursday night, everyone is doing well and I really need some sleep! I have a loft bed I built up above the whelping box so I can catch a few winks but still hear if mom or pups need me.

Rouge's mini Goldendoodle puppies at birth

And this was dated 2/20/09:

Rouge’s guardian Heather dropped her off today. Rouge is due 3/1 with mini FiB Goldendoodle pups, and normally she gets here just about a week before she is due. But Heather has a tennis tournament out of town, and neither of us was comfortable with anyone else being responsible for her so close to her due date.

Rouge is HUGE. It is hard to tell if there are really that many pups in there, or if she is just hanging kind of low because she has had 3 litters previously. I hope it is the latter. Her last litter was nine puppies, and that was just too much. Actually, Rouge was fine with it, it was I who was stressed. 6-8 would be perfect.

The last two weeks have been spent cleaning and painting the puppy areas, buying supplies and generally ramping up. We had half of our detached garage converted unto ‘Puppyland’ a few years ago. Puppyland consists of a small hallway with shelving and storage containers, and two room , one off each side of the hallway.each side. So I have room to care for two litters. There is wireless access and an espresso maker I got for $10 at the thrift store, so I am all set!