May 1, 2025
Today was, without a doubt, the hardest day I’ve faced as a dog breeder.
After weeks of round-the-clock feedings, incubators, and prayers, our tiny miracle puppies Haven and Legend—our micro Bernedoodles—had just turned eight weeks old. These babies were born so small and fragile, and we poured every ounce of love and care into keeping them alive. Against all odds, they were thriving.
This morning, I made the decision to vaccinate them. It’s something we do regularly at eight weeks—it’s protocol, it’s common, and I believed it was time. But within hours, our precious Haven had a reaction. She began to seize, and just like that… she was gone.
I have never experienced this in all my years of breeding. My heart is broken, and the weight of this decision is crushing. I keep replaying it over and over, wishing I had trusted that small voice inside that said, “Wait just a little longer.” I brushed it off as paranoia, trying to follow what’s “standard.” And now she’s gone.
To make things even heavier, Sherrie—our rock, our organizer, and our friend—came in on her day off just to be around the puppies. Yesterday, she had to say goodbye to her sweet Aiden, her loyal Anatolian Shepherd mix of seven years. He’d been fighting bone cancer, and it was time. She came in today hoping for a little joy. Instead, she was the one who found Haven unresponsive. We rushed her to the vet, but it was already too late.
We’re devastated. Sherrie, me, everyone who’s loved on these puppies for the past two months—we’re grieving.
We’ve decided we will no longer vaccinate any puppies before 10 weeks old. No exceptions. We’ll take the extra precautions, but we won’t take that risk again.
Please pray for us. For strength, for comfort, and for wisdom moving forward. This week has left us overwhelmed and weary—but we’re clinging to the hope that tomorrow brings healing, and that sweet Haven is safe and whole in a place without pain.
Thank you for walking this journey with us.
— With love,
All of us at Briarwood Farms
