So step one with Charlie was, like Phoebe, genetic testing and a vet visit- no red flags, and his patellas are excellent.
Now comes the actual breeding- a beautiful, natural event. And by beautiful & natural, I mean gross.
Here's the line-up card; Charlie, with a total of one breeding under his belt. Phoebe, utterly inexperienced. Myself & Mrs. K- completely new to this as well.
Phoebe had been to see the vet, and had her progesterone levels checks, so we knew the days to breed her. Our first go was on a Thursday evening, after work. Charlie, of course, had been isolated from her to ensure nothing untoward happened. BOY was he happy to see her, and vice-versa.
The love-struck duo seemed to be quite ready for the event. Please understand that "ready" does not equate to "eminently capable". While Charlie was, to be certain, absolutely keen, his desire and his aim took two utterly different tangents. Holy. Absolutely everywhere except where he should be. We knew we might have to help him get to where he wanted to go- but every time we tried, one or the other of them would break off the attempt.
We had decided to do the breeding in our basement- which was a bit of an error in judgement. We had carpeting, a tv, couple of chairs and a queen sized bed down there, as it acted as our guest room. Did you know that when dogs breed, there's urine and God knows what else flying everywhere? Did you also know that I had to take the queen mattress to the dump, and steam clean the carpets? Poor Phoebe got drenched in various substances I'd prefer not to discuss now. Or ever.
Eventually, we got her propped up on a pillow (which also went to the dump). He FINALLY managed to find what he had been searching for, and we had an 18 minute tie. YAY!!! This is where you really see that the dogs honestly do know EXACTLY what they're doing. They (and he in particular) were so chill. He stepped over her, and they both stood quietly for the whole time. Awesome.
Day two was not so successful. While the initial interaction between Phoebe and Charlie (who had now acquired the nickname "Stabby Joe") was much faster, there was no tie. One more chance....
Day three was what we should have done all along. Mrs. K was upstairs, I sat in a recliner downstairs, and barely got involved. As Phoebs walked past, I slipped my foot under her belly, lifting her up bit. Poof- tied for 15 minutes.
Okay- now, there was nothing to do but wait. Phoebe had previously had a false pregnancy, so we knew she would show like the breeding had been successful. Only a trip to the vet and an ultrasound 4 weeks later would tell us for sure.
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