Not everything is destined to go right with every litter of puppies. Part of being in the sport of dogs, especially as a breeder, you have to learn to deal with problems. The worst kind of problems are the ones you've inadvertently made for yourself.
No matter how many genetic tests you perform, people you talk to, pedigrees you pour over, you're still going to get an occasional problem child. One long time breeder told me, "if you haven't seen all the genetic problems this breed can produce, you haven't been breeding long enough". It's easy to ignore that statement when you've had a few seemingly perfect litters. Reality fixes those notions of perfection soon enough. Everybody has a problem of some kind in their "line", it just depends on whether they can admit it or not.
The litter we had back in December started out textbook. The first-time Mom was great, she had five girls and two boys. This litter was anticipated by me particularly after doing quite a bit of competing with both parents. I had homes for almost all the puppies at the time they whelped and all those girls to choose from meant I'd have a nice prospect for 2008.
I got my beautiful new show dog, but I also got a puppy we dubbed "Harriet".
Harriet's name is a play on words, "hairy-it". She has a wild cowlick down her neck and fur so thick you'd have thought she was a mutant ridgeback crossover when she was an infant. The vet also docked her tail a little too long so it has a strange kink on the end of it. From the moment she popped out, the little girl had some serious guts to her personality, something she would need in the coming months.
At around two weeks of age we noted something much more different about Harriet than just her mohawk. She was having trouble moving forward properly and instead of pulling her legs under her and starting to walk, she flopped like a fish. Harriet had Hypomyelinogenesis also known as "shaky puppy syndrome".
In layman's terms, it is the delay of the mylenation of the nerve endings.It is similar to Parkinson's Disease in humans, but unlike humans, the dogs are able to regenerate the sheathing with time. Because this insulating coating is missing, impulses sent along the nerves fan out, missing their intended location and exciting all nerves along the pathway. Once the myelin is regrown, there are no further signs of the problem and puppies go on to lead normal lives.
There are a lot of things that ran through my head when we discovered her problem. The first is guilt and shame. Despite the fact it is a recessive trait, and no test currently exists, it didn't really offer me a lot of comfort. We deliberately breed two dogs and the offspring are our responsibility. People who take breeding seriously make a huge effort to set themselves aside from people who are carelessly and blindly sticking dogs together.
The second feeling was apprehension. People like spreading rumors and taking delight in another breeder's misfortunate and misery. The third feeling was hope. Afterall, eventually normalizing is preferable to a whole host of other problems that are potentially life threatening or crippling.Harriet would be normal, someday.
The other and persisting feeling is disappointment. I now have two known carriers of this problem in my line, including my precious just-finished stud dog. One of the top-producing sires of all time in the Weimaraner breed was a known carrier. Coincidently, the top-producing sire was my dogs' great-grandsire. It's still ego-deflating, to say the least.
My feelings aside, Harriet is here and the world won't be the same ever again.
Harriet is a drama queen. Everything is exaggerated with her, like a teenaged girl in full blown puberty. If you step on her toe, she cries like you've killed her. She plays like a tomboy but yelps if the other dog decides to be just as rough. She walks with a funny jitter, but can gallop and keep up with the 'normal' dogs like nothing was ever wrong.
The latest endeavor with Harriet is teaching her to sit. She remembers how to do it, sometimes. Other times, she is the poster child for attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. She knows she gets treats for going in her crate. When presented with treats for sitting, she bolts for her crate. It's funny and kind of frustrating at the same time but we're managing to make some headway.
The most amusing part is her point. It might be the only time she is completely and totally still. She sees the bird feathers and shivers with complete excitement and the stops - dead still - and points those feathers. She also manages to balance well enough to dig, climb and snatch things off the counter.
Her strength and muscle is amazing, but her frame of mind is even more impressive. It never occurred to her to be anything but a puppy. Though the other dogs give her a funny look now and then, they don't see her as weak simply because she doesn't see herself as less of a dog than the rest.
Take note of the lesson, humans.