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A friend sent this to me and I thought it was great. No idea where it came from and I had not seen it before but I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

What is a Breeder?

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!

Who 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{Tea}! Hours are
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 newborn, 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 Kitten’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 cat 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
kitten’s, 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 Kitten.

A Breeder’s eyes are blurred from pedigree research and sometimes
blind to her own cats faults, but they are ever so keen to the
competition’ s 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 is always in the right place!

Oh, yes, there are breeders, and then, there are Breeders!

How sweet :wehuu:

deter så sandt så sandt