04/01/2026
There are people online who have made it their mission to decide who is “ethical” and who isn’t.
Most of the time, it comes from the purebred crowd you know the ones.
The people who believe companion-bred mixes don’t belong. If you breed a mix, you’re immediately labeled a puppy mill or a backyard breeder. There are entire series on TikTok, Facebook, and Instagram dedicated to mocking people who intentionally breed companion dogs.
The intro always starts the same way:
“You paid how much for a mutt?”
As if that one sentence tells the whole story.
One of those videos was made about our program.
I was called a backyard breeder because I don’t publicly post every piece of health testing not because I have anything to hide, but because of spaces like this. I share full results with any family who asks. I print parent testing and send it home with every puppy. We offer a five-year health guarantee because we stand behind the testing we do and the dogs we raise.
I was called a backyard breeder because I had two litters planned close together what wasn’t shared is that one was a first-time mama, intentionally paired alongside a seasoned mom so extra support would be there if it was ever needed.
And honestly… who decides that having two or three litters is unethical if the dogs are loved, cared for, and raised responsibly?
I was called a backyard breeder because I used a young stud but not just any stud, but one from my own lines. Fully health tested. Done growing. Sexually mature. Temperament known through generations. Nothing rushed. Nothing forced. Chosen with care, prayer and intention.
But in the end, it really came down to one thing:
I breed companion-bred mixes.
And to some people, that alone is enough to decide who I am.
What they don’t see is my purpose.
My heart.
My intention.
My sacrifices.
They see doodles and assume trends. They assume money. They assume shortcuts.
They don’t see the dog I invested thousands into health tested, raised with hope only to have him fail his hip testing. They didn’t see me sitting there staring at the PennHIP and OFA results, my chest tight, knowing I had to wash him and start over because my standards don’t bend.
They didn’t see the girl I raised for over a year, loved deeply, only to wash her because she didn’t pass temperament testing. Because temperament isn’t something you can truly know in a puppy it shows up in the real world, with real experiences. And even though she was good, she wasn’t right for my program. And that broke my heart… but I did it anyway.
They didn’t see that.
But they judged like they knew my entire program.
They don’t see the joy these dogs bring to families.
Dogs bred to be someone’s whole world.
Dogs that grow into therapy dogs.
Emotional support companions.
Service dogs.
A widow’s comfort after losing her husband.
A couple’s “baby” when having children isn’t an option.
And they don’t see what these dogs have done for me.
These puppies carried me through my divorce. They gave me purpose when it would have been easier to stay stuck in sadness. They gave me something to wake up for, to pour love into, to believe in again. My dogs bring me back to life. They are my babies.
I don’t have human children.
I was told it may be hard for me to conceive. And being able to experience motherhood through my mama dogs the bond, the closeness, holding newborns in the quiet moments, loving them fiercely, it fills something in me that words can’t fully explain.
That part never makes the clip.
Because to them, it doesn’t matter.
Your heart doesn’t matter.
Your passion doesn’t matter.
If your dogs aren’t purebred, your story is dismissed.
And I want to say this, sometimes criticism does come from a good place. Ethical breeding should be questioned. It should be discussed. We should always be learning, growing, and holding ourselves accountable.
But sometimes… it’s not about concern at all.
Sometimes it’s about bias.
About drawing a hard line and saying there’s only one acceptable way to love dogs, raise dogs, or do this work.
Here’s something it took me a long time to learn:
Someone else’s opinion, especially someone who’s never met you, never stepped into your home, never watched how your dogs live, never known your why or your heart does not define your program or dismiss its purpose.
I’ve watched so many breeders bend themselves into knots trying to prove they’re “good enough.” Myself included.
Explaining every decision. Softening every word. Staying quiet because they’re tired of the mean and rude comments.
It shouldn’t be that way.
You don’t owe anyone online an explanation for choosing to raise a companion-bred mix over a purebred. Ethics aren’t about labels. They show up in the late nights, the hard calls, the transparency, the dogs you don’t breed, and the way the dogs always come before trends, ego, or internet approval.
I don’t need everyone to agree with me.
I don’t need validation from people who don’t know my heart or my purpose.
And I’m done shrinking myself or tiptoeing around my calling out of fear.
Because the people who matter the families, the dogs, and the breeders quietly doing this with love and integrity they see it. They feel it. They know the difference.
And if this hits home for you, let this be your reminder:
You don’t owe anyone online an explanation.
You don’t have to justify your why.
The people meant to see your heart will see it in your work and in the way you raise your dogs.
The right people don’t need convincing they feel the difference.
The Lord looks at the heart.”
- 1 Samuel 16:7
