My wife and I were brought up in families with dogs. In her case, Corgis with the unfortunate name of Haggis. In my case, Welsh Terriers with the more prosaic name of Taffy. When we married we still wanted dogs, but what sort? The first was a mongrel named Lemon Curd. The second a Dalmatian named Miffy.
By now we had moved to a house in 8 acres and had 3 young children. We had chickens, ducks and goats and hit on the idea of breeding Airedales. As much as anything to give our children an insight into nature’s cycle of life. Our aim was not to make money but to have fun.
My wife bought Troubadour a young male from one breeder and Misty, a young bitch, from another. Both were the offspring of Champions with no evidence of in-breeding. We set about training them, going for walks, playing with them and generally having a great time. My wife had read that it was best not to breed in the first season as this gave the bitch time to develop and mature. So as the second season approached we began our preparations.
After the pair had mated I built a large pen with foot high sides in the utility room. This was to keep the puppies contained but allow Misty to...
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