A Breeder (with a capital B) is one who thirsts for
 knowledge and never really knows it all, one who
 wrestles with decisions of conscience, convenience and
 commitment.
 
 A Breeder is one who sacrifices personal interests,
 finances, time, friendships, fancy furniture, and deep
 pile carpeting! She gives up the dreams of a long,
 luxurious cruise in favor of turning that all important
 Show into this year's "vacation".
 
 The Breeder goes without sleep (but never without
 coffee!) in hours spent planning a breeding or watching
 anxiously over the birth process, and afterwards, over
 every little sneeze, wiggle or cry.
 
 The Breeder skips dinner parties because that litter is
 due or the babies have to be fed at eight. She disregards
 birth fluids and puts mouth to mouth to save a gasping
 new-born, literally blowing life into a tiny, helpless
 creature that may be the culmination of a lifetime of
 dreams.
 
 A Breeder's lap is a marvelous place where generations
 of proud and noble champions once snoozed.
 
 A Breeder's hands are strong and firm and often soiled,
 but ever so gentle and sensitive to the thrusts of a
 puppy's wet nose.
 
 A Breeder's back and knees are usually arthritic from
 stooping, bending, and sitting in the birthing box, but
 are strong enough to enable the breeder to Show the
 next choice pup to a Championship.
 
 A Breeder's shoulders are stooped and often heaped
 with abuse from competitors, but they're wide enough
 to support the weight of a thousand defeats and
 frustrations.
 
 A Breeder's arms are always able to wield a mop,
 support an armful of puppies, or lend a helping hand to
 a newcomer.
 
 A Breeder's ears are wondrous things, sometimes red
 (from being talked about) or strangely shaped (from
 being pressed against a phone receiver), often deaf to
 criticism, yet always fine-tuned to the whimper of a sick
 puppy.
 
 A Breeder's eyes are blurred from pedigree research
 and sometimes blind to her own dog's faults, but they
 are ever so keen to the competitions faults and are
 always searching for the perfect specimen.
 
 A Breeder's brain is foggy on faces, but it can recall
 pedigrees faster than an IBM computer. It's so full of
 knowledge that sometimes it blows a fuse, it catalogues
 thousands of good bonings, fine ears and perfect
 heads...and buries in the soul the failures and the ones
 that didn't turn out.
 
 The Breeder's heart is often broken, but it beats
 strongly with hope everlasting...and it's always in the
 right place!
 
 Oh, yes, there are breeders, and then, there are
 BREEDERS!!
 
 Author: Unknown...