On preservation, responsibility, and what it really means to be a breeder.
I have noticed something changing in the way some people approach breeding dogs, and I find myself wondering whether we have gradually accepted a very different definition of what it means to be a breeder.
Increasingly, I hear people describe themselves as being in the industry, refer to puppy buyers as clients, and speak of their breeding programs in terms that sound more like commercial enterprises than a lifelong commitment to a breed. Perhaps it is simply a difference in language, but sometimes I suspect it reflects something deeper about how people view the dogs they produce, the families who welcome them, and the responsibilities that should accompany breeding.
There is certainly nothing wrong with promoting our dogs or celebrating their accomplishments. I have spent countless hours training, conditioning, showing, competing, photographing, and sharing the achievements of our Staffords. I understand the work and sacrifice involved, and I believe those accomplishments deserve recognition. But there is a difference between celebrating what we achieve with our dogs and using those achievements primarily to market the next litter. The distinction lies not in the presentation, but in the purpose behind it.
Preservation or Production?
For those of us who consider ourselves preservation breeders, every breeding should begin with a thoughtful evaluation of what that combination might contribute to the future of the breed. We study pedigrees, health, structure, temperament, and the qualities that make the Staffordshire Bull Terrier what it is. We recognize faults in dogs we love, reconsider plans, and sometimes choose not to breed at all. A championship is an achievement worth celebrating, but it does not automatically make a dog worthy of reproduction.
There is also a financial reality that people outside the breeding community may not appreciate. Serious breeding is frequently an expensive undertaking, with years of health testing, veterinary expenses, training, travel, competition, and caring for dogs whose contributions to our lives may never include producing a litter. For many of us, the financial return does not begin to cover the investment, nor was that ever the expectation.
I do not believe that earning money from a litter makes someone irresponsible, but I do believe there is an important difference between accepting payment for puppies and making breeding decisions based upon the financial opportunities those puppies represent.
Mentoring or Expanding a Market?
One practice I find particularly troubling is the apparent expectation that puppy buyers will become exhibitors, breeders, or participants in an expanding network of breeding arrangements. Encouraging newcomers to become involved in our breed is worthwhile, and mentoring responsible future breeders is essential to preservation. But there is a considerable difference between helping someone develop the knowledge and judgment necessary to breed responsibly and encouraging them to reproduce dogs because doing so benefits someone else’s program.
Not every puppy should be shown, not every champion should be bred, and not every enthusiastic owner should be encouraged to produce a litter. Responsible mentoring should develop independent thinkers who understand the breed, recognize its challenges, and are prepared to make difficult decisions. It should never become a means of multiplying puppies, extending a kennel’s influence, or creating additional opportunities for sales.
The same principle applies to breeding decisions themselves. The availability of a stud dog, the popularity of a particular pedigree, or the prospect of producing marketable puppies should never outweigh careful consideration of the dogs involved. Knowing when to decline a breeding is as important as knowing when to proceed.
Families, Not Transactions
Perhaps the greatest distinction for me is the relationship between a breeder and the people who welcome their puppies into their homes.
At Wavemaker, we have always considered those people part of our extended family. Of course, there are contracts, financial arrangements, and practical responsibilities, but our interest in the dogs and their owners extends well beyond the day a puppy leaves us. We care about the homes they enter, the lives they lead, and whether a particular puppy is genuinely suited to the family considering it. Sometimes that means turning down a placement or encouraging someone to wait, even when a puppy is available.
We also believe that bringing a puppy into the world creates a responsibility that does not end with a sale. Circumstances change, people encounter difficulties, and sometimes dogs need to return to their breeders. Those situations may be inconvenient, expensive, or emotionally difficult, but they are part of the commitment we accepted when we chose to breed.
What troubles me is the idea that dogs and their owners might become primarily a means of expanding a breeding program, generating additional litters, or promoting a kennel’s success. The people who trust us with our puppies deserve more than a business relationship, and the dogs themselves deserve considerably more than to be regarded as future breeding opportunities.
Giving Something Back
I also believe that serious breeding involves an obligation to the breed beyond our own kennels. The Staffordshire Bull Terrier existed long before we became involved, and its future depends upon more than the number of champions or puppies any of us produce.
Supporting rescue, participating in breed clubs, promoting health education, preserving history, mentoring others, and sharing knowledge are all ways we can contribute. Not everyone has the same resources or opportunities, and much worthwhile work is done quietly without recognition. But I do believe we should occasionally ask ourselves what we are giving back to the breed from which we have received so much.
That responsibility also includes presenting our dogs honestly. Romanticized descriptions such as the nanny dog may appeal to prospective buyers, but they can create misleading expectations about temperament and the supervision children require around dogs. The Stafford is a wonderful breed with a rich history and distinctive character. We should be educating people about those qualities rather than relying upon appealing claims that may help sell puppies.
What Will Remain?
After more than two decades with Staffords, I find myself thinking increasingly about what our efforts will ultimately mean. I am enormously proud of the champions we have bred, the performance achievements of our dogs, and the recognition they have received. Those accomplishments represent years of dedication and some wonderful memories, but I hope they will not be the only measure of what Wavemaker has contributed.
I would much rather our legacy be found in the healthy, sound, much-loved Staffords living wonderful lives with their families, in the people we have helped and encouraged, in the knowledge we have shared, and in the decisions we made because they were right for the dogs rather than convenient for ourselves.
I do not expect every breeder to share exactly the same philosophy, nor do I believe that doing things differently automatically means doing them poorly. But I do believe we owe it to the breed to examine our motivations honestly and recognize the difference between building something for ourselves and contributing something worthwhile to the future.
Ultimately, the measure of a breeding program should not be how many puppies it produces, how successfully it markets them, or how far its influence extends. It should be found in the quality of the decisions we make, the responsibilities we honor, and what we leave behind for the Staffordshire Bull Terrier.
