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 years “vacation.” 

A 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. 

A Breeder skips dinner parties because that litter is due or the babies 

have to be fed at eight. 

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 kitty’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 kitten 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 

kittens, 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 cat’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. 

A 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