Frankie's Breeder Speaks Out!

When I started this blog back in April '05, I wrote an article about Frankie (currently in training as my 3rd sdog). I received the following question:
Raze said... What breed is Frankie?
Well, today I received a nice comment from Frankie's breeder with a very detailed answer! So, without further ado, let me introduce Frankie (and Willie's) most-bestest-breeder-in-the-whole-wide-world!

Lady Rebecca said...

Hi, since I'm Franklyn Green Beans' "breeder" I suppose I can answer this question Raze... Frankie is half Lab and half hound-mix.

Besides being a breeder, I'm a Pro Trainer and an Animal Behaviorist, and as such, among many other things like working directly with clients and their humans when there is a problem beyond the skill set of a trainer, I also rehab abused/neglected dogs that have either gone into some stage of withdrawal or have become fear biters, etc. (some call me a pooch shrink, others, like the WillaWoman call me the Dog Whisperer). When they're all fixed up...timing varies and I've learned to have the patience of Job over the many moons I've been doing this (32 years this year technically speaking, since I went to work at Grandpa's who bred and trained beagles just down the road when I was 8). Which means, yes I'll be 40 in a few weeks, and ain't it fine? I think it's OUTSTANDING!

Professionally, I've been teaching obed, agility, hunting, etc. for 26 years and branched out from there to working dogs of all shapes sizes and job descriptions for 24 years (as a behaviorist I'm looking at about 16 years give or take this year.)

I pride myself on being an extremely responsible and ethical breeder...dot all the I's and cross the T's at least twice, and I don't breed just to breed. Only when I need a new generation to go on with. I do all my pedigree homework, testing homework, and frankly (pun intended) I'm pretty anal retentive about my furkids and their prospective progeny. Haven't arranged a breeding since Willie was born...reason why I'll tell you about some other time, but suffice it to say it's a good thing I know how to train chair assist dogs, cuz it turns out I'll be needing one of my own eventually here.

"SO", you ask, "Willie turned 7 on St Paddy's Day this year, so if his is the last litter you planned out and bred, how is it that young Franklyn Green Beans is even here and came from your kennel???".

(Incidentally, FGB has two sisters who are here at our place... Pinkie Tuscadero aka Pinkweed and Violetta aka Velveeta Cheese, plus a darn near twin brother Wile E. aka Wiley, who may be leaving to become a narc dog in Missouri soon but I haven't been convinced yet. All are looking for loving homes, though I warn you, I'm pretty tough on prospective owners of my furkids!)

The Answer to the Riddle that is Frankie is this: Lab Rescue asked me to foster an abused hound mix female, about age 3, severely abused and starved nearly to death. What they didn't mention, or perhaps were unaware of, was that she was just coming into the fertile and hence no outward noticeable signs part of her heat cycle.

I have a very big guy here, by the name of TL's Big River Nigel James...we call him Big G Money, or just G...and he has a stellar pedigree, not to mention he's produced more working dogs than you can shake a stick at! (haha!) He's something, our G. Nothing deters him from his goal...neither crate, nor bars, nor human parents who might catch him in the act. He got Franklyn's Mama right through her crate and we didn't have the first clue, because she was so darn skinny that she never blimped out!

Then, one evening, August 17th to be exact, one day before my birthday, hubby and I were getting ready to throw a couple of steaks on the barbie. I was in the process of making the marinade up and baking potatoes, when I heard a sound...a sound I hadn't heard in quite some time and had missed quite badly. But I'd been dealing with a newly diagnosed disease that's pretty painful, and just didn't feel I could do justice to a litter despite how much I missed puppy breath around the place. My thoughts were "You're wanting them so bad, you're hearing things! It was the cat...or something."

Went into the dining room to set the table and went past her crate and heard it again, and this time I looked inside, and saw a newborn suckling. OH NIGEL YOU ROTTEN SO AND SO! HOW COULD YOU! I'm thinking that for the moment it takes me to open the door, and yell out at hubby to forget the steaks, and break out a whelp box, heat lights, towels and other necessary stuff, because we're having a litter courtesy of Big G. Hubby remained calm...didn't come running in the house with a BBQ fork ready to do murder to that big galoot who'd done this thing. Instead he stayed calm and collected...stared at me for a second or two, then....he cursed. Loudly. Several times actually.

Franklyn was born in my livingroom, and he was born after midnight, which means that he and I will be sharing a Birthday soon, only he won't be turning 40 and he didn't just find 6 new gray hairs on top of his head this morning to my knowledge. Also, his birth, while a total accident by a sneaky over-sexed large black labrador, was rather a good thing as it turns out.

If you look back at the WillaWoman's entry you'll note that Franklyn was a bit of a challenge, because hounds are very sight oriented, and because the 1st trainer was in way over her head. She'd never trained a working dog in her life, and did some things that needed to be undone very fast. I got a call from the WillaWoman, near tears, because she thought ol' Frankie was beyond all hope and help.

They brought him to visit so I could do an assessment of him. Fixed his biggest problem in about 5-10 minutes once I'd watched him without him knowing I was for about an hour. Smart Furkid, VERY smart furkid, Big G Money type smart...tough training waters ahead! But not to worry...I went and stayed with the WillaWoman and hubby a few times, and we undid the damage and got going in the right direction.

Then, because we were in the process of moving us, 17 dogs and 2 cats to a farm in Northern NJ, I put the WillaWoman and hubby and FGB in the hands of a very capable K9 Officer from Austin PD who picked up where I left off. Franklyn is wicked smart, and he's devoted to his folks, and loves to learn...also loves to torment poor Willie!

Mama, who ended up with the really rotten moniker "Trenchy" because when she first came to us, she was so scared of everything and everybody from her ordeals that she'd dig big ol' holes and hide in them...long and deep holes, like trenches, get it? :-) Well, the Trenchster is still with us, and I dunno if I can let her go. To the right people, yes...but it will be tough. Then again she deserves a loving home where she'll be totally doted on without any major competition from a bunch of other dogs. This is just one reason we call working with dogs the Heartbreak Hobby. The right thing is always the one the rips a piece of you out and leaves you wondering why you do it to yourself.

Then, you go visit a friend, who's a crip with TWO trained chair assist dogs from your kennel, and she's done a whole lot of it herself, when she didn't think she could. You taught her a lot, and now she's teaching others, plus your furgrandkids are happy in their jobs and so very well loved!

Then I get some quid pro quo...I've been the WillaWoman's mentor, not really the trainer, and now she's mentoring me on being a crip. Great how stuff works out sometimes huh? I love it when a plan (ahem...Big G's Plan?) comes together!

Any questions or problems I can pitch my 2 pennies at, you can always ask the WillaWoman here and if she can't answer it, I'll take my shot.

Cheers...and Happy Early Birthday Frankie Green Beans! Who Loves Ya Baby?


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