Breeding Beyond Boundaries: When Vision Challenges the Norm

Reflection after a day that stirred the thoughts again.

Some days mark you. You speak a truth out loud, and suddenly, people no longer meet your eyes. A conversation trails off, a glance turns away. Others smile, nod, and pretend everything is normal. And perhaps it is normal—in a breed community where you quickly learn that nodding along and not asking questions is the safest path.

It’s also telling how some who used to reach out for advice have since gone quiet—after I spoke up. After I made it clear how I feel about breeders who have broken kennel club rules being welcomed back. Or about those who choose euthanasia over returning or rehoming a dog to its breeder. For me, this is a matter of principle—and accountability. When these same breeders then find creative ways to bypass breeding restrictions by registering new kennel names under their partner’s name, it raises serious concerns. Yet, the silence is usually directed at the one who dares to point it out.

These past days have made me reflect on the road ahead. Not because I had to decide something immediately, but because conversations and reactions reminded me why I’m here in the first place.

I'm currently considering two stud dogs. Both are healthy and have solid temperaments. One is social and confident. The other more reserved—something arguably more typical of the breed. But in Norway, most puppy buyers now prefer more outwardly social dogs, something I've increasingly realized despite my efforts to educate about the breed. Still, both males are good types. One is clear of all conditions. The other is a carrier of CEA (which is not a concern as long as the mate is clear). This choice isn't about right or wrong—it's about long-term direction.

I've also been advised to wait. Or to use my own lines. To wait for the F2 generation and build from there. I understand the logic. It's well-intentioned advice. But for me, that would mean waiting at least two years—not to develop, but merely to breed. And I'm not here just to produce puppies. I want to contribute. I have a deep interest in genetics, health, and behavior. And I believe we need to be brave enough to evolve. If we aren’t, we get stuck in a loop where everyone clings to the same winners, and we lose the courage to use their siblings—or the ones who dare to be different.

The Danish/Swedish Farmdog Club offers a great example of structured, responsible breed integration—focusing on health, function, and type. It’s not about diluting a breed. It’s about securing it. That philosophy reflects my own thinking: We must have vision, be brave, and challenge ourselves and our choices.

Using my own lines would limit both my future plans as a breeder and the goals I have for developing the breed. It would also contradict the direction I intend to pursue. Moreover, it’s about respect—for the person who entrusted me with these lines. I neither want nor should use those lines for this project. It must be my decision. And it must be a thoughtful one.

I'm also seeing how quickly certain lines spread. When a stud under six years old already has over 58 grandchildren—and more than 10 of them are being bred—it's clear that we're narrowing diversity, not expanding it. That’s why we need to think ahead. Most breeders do have long-term goals, but unless we're willing to think outside the box, we don't just limit ourselves—we limit the breed.

In our breed community, using a dog with correct coloring but poor proportions often goes unchallenged. Meanwhile, using a well-built dog with the “wrong” color causes uproar. Many oppose breed integration. A few support it—and even fewer dare to say so publicly. Some are positive, but stay quiet—because they know what kind of backlash can follow.

For me, the answer is simple: structure and function come before color. Black and tan is dominant over agouti. Color will come. Good structure, on the other hand, won't—unless we deliberately select for it. In my opinion, it's not until the F3 generation that you start to see true stability—and only then should we begin evaluating for type consistency and possible full registration, unless that process started with a foundation parent already in F1.

This breed isn’t easy to sell. It’s not “for everyone.” And no matter how clearly you try to communicate that, some people will only hear what they want. Either because they believe they know better—or because they take advice from others who think “a dog is just a dog.”

What we need is a dog that holds onto the breed’s original qualities while also becoming a bit more mentally accessible—for today’s world.

The road to a goal is long. And it doesn’t allow shortcuts—at least not when your aim is development, not validation.

If I move forward with this decision, it won’t go unnoticed. Some will raise their voices. Others will drift away. And the backroom conversations will pick up—I know how it works. My friends list may shrink—unless curiosity outweighs pride. But I’ve weathered storms before. I know who I am and what I stand for.

And I know I’m not the only one standing in this—even if not everyone says it out loud. Yet.