G-LITTER

Week 8 - Goodbye my babies!

The G-litter was something very special long before its birth – even though it certainly didn't make things easy for me. From the very beginning, it turned all my plans upside down. Kehlani, calm and in her quiet, stubborn way, simply ignored my carefully thought-out plans. She came into heat a full two months later than expected – and then took another two days past her due date to give birth. But Kehlani knew – as so often – exactly what she was doing.

And when the moment finally arrived, Kehlani made a decision I'll never forget: she waited until my boyfriend had left the house—and only then did the contractions begin. It was as if she wanted to say: I trust you. We'll do this together. That moment was the beginning of something very personal and profound. It was my first litter that I accompanied entirely on my own—and yet I never felt truly alone for a single second. Kehlani and I were in perfect harmony, and the G-litter was born into an atmosphere of calm, trust, and quiet strength.

And yet, my loved ones were close in their own way: A puppy was born while I was on the phone with my boyfriend. The last two arrived while I was talking to my father. Even though I was physically alone, the people who mean the most to me were there in their own way.

From the very beginning, these puppies were exceptional. Easygoing, peaceful, and in a way, wise—as if they already understood life. They didn't cause any fuss, they didn't worry—they were simply there, as if they had never belonged anywhere else. They met new things with curiosity instead of fear. Loud noises, sudden changes, strangers—they accepted everything with open hearts and wagging tails, as if nothing in life could truly shake them.

They greeted strangers like old friends – completely uninhibited and trusting. No hesitation, no retreat. Just genuine trust. They possessed a calm, courageous energy – a quiet self-confidence that made everything around them seem effortless.

And perhaps that was precisely what made them so special: they made everything so incredibly easy. After all the tension, the restless nights, the constant checking and planning, this litter came along – and showed me that the most beautiful things in life often happen when you stop trying to control everything.

They were the litter that taught me to let go and trust. They showed me that I can do it – that not everything has to go according to plan to experience something truly wonderful.

My G-babies will forever be a part of me. Not only because it was my first litter all on my own, but because of the way they came into the world: at their own pace, on their own terms – and with a strength and ease that I will never forget.

Now everyone has moved out. The house is quiet again, and normal life has returned – but my heart is full of memories. I'm incredibly curious to see how their lives will unfold and what paths they will take. One thing is certain: they each have something special within them. And I'm proud to have been a part of their beginning.

Introducing our G-babies!

Week 7 – or: I no longer live here, I am only needed.

So… I own a sofa. It's soft, it's cozy – at least I think so, because I haven't seen it for days. My home has been occupied by a small, fluffy army: Six puppies. Seven weeks old. On high alert 24/7. Me too, by the way.

The concert begins at 5:17 a.m. A mixture of yelps, squeals, growls, and the sound of at least one puppy using its siblings as a trampoline. I affectionately call it breakfast chaos with a foot massage. Because, let's be honest: if you walk barefoot through the puppy area, you're bound to get a tongue, a paw, or a tooth. And the best part? Sometimes all at once. Pure luxury.

This week's program was packed with:

1. Veterinary visit

I thought "a quick vaccination and microchipping" would be a quick appointment.
Hahahahaha.
I now know: Six puppies in a transport crate are not transportable; they're a rolling party with sound effects. And while one is vomiting, another is trying to find out if you can teleport through the ventilation grille. Arriving at the vet: grand entrance, screeching in five different tones, and one of them almost swallowed the vet's stethoscope button.
But hey, everyone's healthy! And I've got a few new grey hairs.

2. Parent visits

"We'd love to meet the little ones!" – Sure, come on over, I thought.
What I hadn't considered: puppies in week 7 have the energy of an espresso on speed.
The families sat on the floor, completely overwhelmed, while a puppy chewed on a jacket, another disappeared into the hoods of the houses, and another seriously tried to steal the car keys from a handbag. I stood nearby, grinning, with a coffee cup in my hand (empty, of course), saying things like:
"This is the wild phase... it will pass eventually... maybe... in a few months... or years..."
Nevertheless, they all wanted one. A masochist.

3. Side trip!

I thought to myself, "Now let's do something for their brains, so they get tired."
What really happened: I squeezed myself into a car in which six howling furballs were simultaneously trying to mount each other, eat each other, or simply walk through the wall.
Arriving at the training grounds – peace and quiet? No. The discovery of the world was celebrated with peeing on the unfamiliar carpet, wild roars at the sight of a leaf, and a dramatic confrontation with… an empty yogurt container.
After 20 minutes I was tired. The puppies? Warmed up and ready for round 2.

Conclusion of this week?

My house smells like puppy (intensely so), my daily routine is completely controlled by others, and my hair looks like I've cuddled with a high-voltage power line.
But: Every little squeak, every sudden falling-asleep show, every joyful tail wag makes it all worthwhile again.

I love this gang. I really do.
But if they move out in the eighth week, I'll either cry my eyes out – or I sleep for 14 hours straight.

Perhaps both.

Week 6 - Life on the Edge - Episode 417: The Puppy Gang Goes Wild!

Status: exhausted, scratched up, but emotionally stable... sort of.

Scene of the action: My garden. Or as I now call it: The Gladiator Arena of the Fluffy-Rags.

Today on the agenda of our snacking squad (6 weeks old, but with the self-confidence of teenagers on energy drinks):

Put on the collar and harness, practice feeling around, check the teeth and learn basic manners.

Spoiler alert: They thought everything was awful. And delicious.

8:00 a.m.: I put on the first collar. The puppy freezes in shock. Seconds later: a deluxe roll on the floor and hysterical backward crawling like an exorcism. Me? Laughing. Until he bites my sock.

9:00 AM: Harness – aka the Sadness Cape of Horror. Two puppies are acting like dying swans, one is running around in circles like a kangaroo on speed. Number four takes the opportunity to latch onto my trouser leg. I feel like a mobile climbing park.

10:00 AM: Dental check. Sounds simple. But it isn't. Three puppies find my fingers tasty, one sucks on them like a pacifier, the last one has decided that teeth are a sign of being a loser and clenches his jaw like a high-security safe.

11:00 AM: Garden time. Liberation from puppy zone. It was like releasing six saccharine-sweet, drooling Gremlins all at once. Within five minutes:

-A hole next to the elderberry bush

-A puppy soaking wet because it fell into the water bowl

-All puppy noses are no longer black but brown from digging

And me, on all fours, with a squeaky giraffe toy in my mouth (long story, please don't ask)

Bonus level: I call out – six heads turn… and immediately turn away again, as if I'd said "tax return." One comes. Only to climb me like Mount Everest. Emotional defeat in HD.

They may not have understood everything yet – but they sniffed curiously, bravely tried things out, protested loudly, and in doing so, won my heart completely. Every day with them is a little chaotic miracle full of laughter, drool, and love.

And quite honestly? I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

Breeder's life, day 45.

Please send wine. Or puppy sitters. Or both.

Week 5 - Big Garden Mission: The Invasion of the Little Paws

This week the time had finally come! Our six furry rockets were allowed to conquer the puppy garden for the first time – and I naively thought: This will surely be cute and relaxed.

Spoiler alert: It got cute. But "relaxed" unfortunately went on short-term vacation.

The garden? A veritable mini-adventureland. Tunnels, a wobble board, cuddly toys, balls, a climbing ramp, a crinkle frame, and a small paddling pool. In short: a thoughtfully designed paradise for little paws with a big thirst for discovery.

And how they conquered it! Without hesitation, without fear – with 100% energy and 0% orientation.

Puppy number 1 – the speed demon – raced straight into the tunnel and at the end stuck his head out so dramatically, as if he'd just climbed Mount Everest. Number 2 started a loud argument with the squeaky chicken (spoiler alert: the chicken lost), while number 3 mistook the meadow for a spa and rolled around on his back with obvious pleasure.

Number 4 bravely ventured onto the seesaw – and then, in protest against gravity, simply let himself fall over. And 5 and 6? They had decided that my trouser leg was apparently part of the play equipment. I didn't even get a chance to get my coffee, let alone drink it in peace.

After nearly an hour of commotion, romping, minor mishaps with the water bowl, and at least five failed attempts to climb the play hill, they suddenly – just like that! – were simply lying there. Scattered everywhere, like plush dominoes that the day had taken care of.

I'm sitting here now, with grass stains on my trousers, a ball from the ball pit under my thigh and a sleeping puppy on my foot.

Conclusion: The garden is still alive. So am I.

And I would do it exactly the same way again tomorrow.

Week 4 - Visits and discovery tours

Welcome to week 4 – the moment when cuddly, sleepy milk drinkers slowly transform into little personalities with teeth and opinions. And oh yes, they have opinions – and they express them loudly. For example, when you disturb them while they're sleeping. Or eating. Or simply because a sibling is lying on their ear. Probably Mr. Yellow again.

Yes, they can bark now. Two are practicing particularly hard – I suspect they're applying to be guard dogs. They just don't know yet that their biggest threat right now is a stuffed bear.

The whelping box is gradually becoming too small for all they want to experience. Instead of staying quietly inside, they're half-hanging over the top, trying to push each other out, or stacking themselves up like a wobbly puppy Jenga tower. Today, one of them did an impressive somersault while climbing out, then stood up and acted as if it had all been planned that way.

And of course: teeth!

They come. And they get used. On everything. On toys. On siblings. On my foot. A particularly popular habit is to give them a very light bite while nursing – Kehlani looks briefly irritated at this, as if she has to consider whether she signed that part of the contract.

And then there was the big moment: the first visit.

The prospective puppy parents finally got to meet the little rascals. The humans' eyes widened, while the puppies remained remarkably calm – although I wasn't sure if they saw the visitors as guests or as new climbing frames. There was sniffing, slobbering, nibbling, and… lots and lots of cuddles. One puppy even managed to sneak onto a visitor's lap with complete devotion – then immediately fell asleep as if it were his rightful throne. Everyone was delighted. Some were even a little drooly. But that's all part of the service here.

Sometimes, when it's briefly quiet, I just watch them. These small, clumsy attempts to stand up, to bark, to explore – and I realize how quickly they grow up. Still wobbly, still with milk mustaches, but full of energy and a spirit of discovery.

And then... another one barks at the corner. Probably because she gave him a funny look.

Week Three - Baby food extravaganza with built-in cleaning service



It's official: We're on the move. And by "movement," I don't mean some cute, cautious tiptoeing. No. I'm talking about a controlled, wobbly mini-zombie march with the goal: "To explore everything and pee everywhere."

The babies can walk now. At least in theory. In practice, they look more like a cross between a drunken penguin and the first man on the moon. They crawl, they fall over, they climb on top of each other, they start running and forget to brake. Yesterday, one of them marched straight into the food bowl. Face first.

Speaking of food! We've started weaning. I was prepared. The porridge was nicely spread out, the camera was ready, and the towels were stacked like in the spa area of a dog sanatorium. I thought: This is going to be cute!

No. It became a battlefield.

Within 30 seconds, the bowl had transformed into a swamp. One puppy ran in. Another decided to lie face down in it. And one tried to drink the gruel—from his brother's ear. I have no idea how that was even possible.

But then she arrived! My savior! Kehlani. The heroine of the day. She slowly approached the whelping box, surveyed the mush-covered mess, sighed deeply, and got to work. With stoic calm, she cleaned each puppy individually. From head to tail. Even the food bowl. Then the floor. Then the puppy again. It was like a mixture of maternal love, Zen Buddhism, and a professional cleaning crew in canine form.

I stood beside her, a rag in my hand that suddenly seemed completely unnecessary. I swear, Kehlani gave me a look that said, "Really? Porridge? You fed her porridge?"

After the cleaning, the puppies looked like they'd just been polished – only with very wet fur and a light licking finish. They fell peacefully asleep as if nothing had happened. I, on the other hand, sat there looking like a baby mousse disaster and smelling vaguely of puppy muesli.

But what can I say? I love them. All of them.

Week two – Eyes are open. All of them. Mine too. For three days now.

It's week two. The puppies are opening their eyes – and I'm wondering when I last closed mine. The answer is probably:at that timeBack when I still had a life. In front of six hairy, insatiable milk vampires.

The throw is huge. Heavy. Let's just say: when all six of them crawl over my hand, I can feel it in my bones. Kehlani has meanwhile resigned herself to an annoyed expression that lies somewhere between "I love my children" and "I'm calling child protective services right now."

The puppies' eyes are open now – and I swear, one of them looked at me yesterday as if he already knew how to dismantle the sofa. They're still as blind as a bat with sunglasses on, but you can feel it: their personalities are emerging. Mr. Yellow, for example, has decided that he only wants to sleep on top of his siblings.Not beside them. On top of them.

Weighing them is another highlight. I put them on the scale – they pee. I wipe. I put the next one on – he pees. I wipe. I accidentally weigh myself too – and almost have a heart attack.Okay, that was just the shock of caffeine withdrawal, I tell myself.

My current favorite pastime? Wiping puppy bottoms. My hobby? Debating whether I can legally rename the "whelping box" to "cuddle warriors' arena." My diet? Mainly things I can eat with one hand. And cold.

And yet – amidst the chaos, the crawling, the hustle and bustle – there are these quiet, magical moments. When they're all asleep, grunting peacefully, like little piglets with too big an appetite and too small paws. Then I smile. And think:What a wonderfully crazy life.

First week - Diary of a breeder

It's 3:47 a.m. The world is asleep. Except for me. And of course: the pack of smacking mini-crocodiles that affectionately call themselves "Litter G"—G for "Don't give me any sleep!"

I'm a breeder. But not the kind of breeder who strides confidently across a perfectly manicured lawn in a smart coat, thermos in hand. No. I'm the kind of breeder who's been living in a bathrobe for the past seven days, with puppy milk in his hair and a nervous twitch in his left eyelid.

And so there I stand. With damp wipes, a flashlight between my teeth (because one hand is never enough), trying to untangle the great puppy origami: Who ate, who cried, and who peed on their siblings again?

The nights consist of an endless cycle of squeaks, chirps, and the exasperating "Is that a puppy back there—or just a pile of blankets?" game. Spoiler alert: It's always a puppy. And it's guaranteed to be positioned in such a way that I have to crunch three bones and crawl into the whelping box to reach it.

The days? A mixture of puppy TV (today's program: We discover our voices – all at the same time!), panic when one of the little worms is too quiet for ten seconds, and trying to somehow eat food that isn't dry food.

My coffee machine now has its own name: Gerda. Gerda understands me. She doesn't talk, she doesn't ask questions – she just brews. And she brews liters of it. Black, strong, and with the subtle undertone of "You brought this on yourself, my friend."

And yet – amidst the mountains of dirty towels, the feverish Googling of "Why does my puppy squeak like a broken bicycle?", and the feeling that my coffee machine has become my best friend – there are moments. Small, fluffy, whimpering moments when I realize: This is the chaos I voluntarily chose.

At least 7 more weeks, then they'll move out.

And me? I'm moving into a health resort.

Our G-litter has arrived!

On the night of April 28, 2025, our G-litter was born! In just 4 hours and with an uncomplicated birth, Kehlani gave us 3 boys and 3 girls. All are doing well, the babies are all nursing nicely and gaining weight well, and Kehlani is truly a model mother!

G-LITTER END OF APRIL

We were in Poland in mid-February visiting Piccolo Bello Maribe Magic, or simply Ori, and what can we say? Ori charmed his way into Kehlani's heart, and this romantic getaway has now resulted in our G-litter! You can tell Kehlani is different now; she's much more affectionate, always seeking my company, and as soon as I leave the room, she starts whining. I've never seen her like this before, as she's usually quite independent. But that's just how hormones work!

We are planning our G-litter for spring 2025!

The mother of our G-litter will be our Kehlani She will be. She impresses not only with her beauty, but also with her work ethic and unique character. Kehlani is a very intelligent dog who loves to learn and, above all, wants to please. She always tries to do everything right. She has been very successful at shows so far and can boast several impressive wins and championships. Within the family, she is our little ray of sunshine, a dog who is always cheerful and rarely in a bad mood.

We expect very promising puppies in this litter, suitable for shows, sports, and other potential training (therapy dog, rescue dog, etc.). Above all, however, we expect puppies that are well-suited for families! They are already being introduced to a variety of things with us, such as car rides, traveling in a crate, encountering unfamiliar people, cats, different surfaces, street noises, movement on the road, and much more!

Anyone interested in a puppy from this litter is warmly invited to contact us! We would also be delighted to get to know you before our girl becomes pregnant! Please feel free to use the contact form, call us, or send us a message via WhatsApp or SMS. We look forward to hearing from you!