vision testing

Sometime last spring I went in to get my eyes checked. I knew I needed glasses. Just for reading. But when the lenses were placed in front of my eyes and everything near and, even more so, distant, came into focus I felt like crying. I had been missing so much detail. And not just for reading. Maybe not blind exactly but I had lost my focus.

I thought about that experience the other day after taking Kismet into Portland to spend some time with a couple who wanted to open their home and share their lives with a special dog.

It was only 10 months ago when Celie surprised me by whelping the first of her “Luck” litter out in the dog run. Barking like crazy she got me out to find her firstborn black boy squeaking and wet. It was very lucky I found him, rushed him and mom inside and waited for the rest to come. That little boy I named Kismet and later Toreth’s Synchronicity.

As he grew I saw good things. Big, round bone. Perfect turnout. Wonderful expression. Huge ears. And the sweetest temperament. I also saw the challenges but knew I could work with them. I know I could finish him, get Celie some ROM points maybe. And then as he grew I had thoughts of breeding him.

No one said anything against his quality. At least not directly to me. In fact, judges told me how beautiful his front was and gave me unsolicited grooming advice regarding the coat. Friends were supportive.

Then one day recently it was like someone put some corrective lenses over my eyes. I saw my little group of dogs. I have three lovely girls who will only have a few opportunities to be bred. I realized I wouldn’t use Kismet myself and I doubt anyone else would.
I saw the resources of my time, energy and finances split between all the dog stuff and the non-dog stuff. It was time to get real.

A breeder, a responsible one, has to be hard sometimes. With a twinge of guilt and a tiny edge of jealousy I hear puppy buyers tell me that when they bring a dog home it’s for life. A breeder has to let go of that particular ideal while holding onto the bigger picture. And I remind myself that dogs don’t feel exactly the way we do about relationships.

So I let it be known to a few dog friends that I was letting Kismet go. And before long I received an email about him from this great couple who had lost a Cardigan and a Pembroke this year. They were missing the company only a dog can give and Carolyn sent them my way. (Thanks my friend!) Everyone seemed to know it was simply meant to be. Like kismet. Like synchronicity.

Here’s what I saw: I saw a happy, proud little dog go in and make himself at home. With the couch, the toys, and their hearts. I saw him work that canine magic on the nicest people I could ask for any of my dogs.
And I learned all over again that when I get a little perspective and let go a little I get to see beautiful things like that.