To Breed Or Not To Breed

To Breed Or Not To Breed

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A Cautionary Tale

The answer is a loud NO! Not if you are considering how nice it would be to have a few babies. Not if you are considering maybe for fun and profit. My advice is to leave the breeding to those breeders who breed all the time -- they are equipped and know how to deal with problems, and there are plenty of cute little kits to buy, and sweet kits and ferrets to adopt.

Although I have owned ferrets for over 11 years, it was only a few years ago I decided to breed, knowing the risks and problems in breeding ferrets. That initial decision was then put on hold -- and I only decided again after considerable thought and noting that I had good breeding stock. Hard not to notice when you have a bunch of whole jills and a whole hob around the house.

So, this will be a story of breeding Just One More ("Jussy"), a pretty black sable who made it to Grand Champion in only three shows and who has a waiting list for her babies. Okay, so maybe that was one of the factors, dumb person that I am.

Jussy came into estrus in the fall, when she was 9 months old. First problem -- no vasectomized hobs in season. After three tries, a whole hob not in season took her down. After an intense false pregnancy, false delivery, and difficult time raising false kits, she of course came right back into heat. This time she was bred for real, but again false. The situation was complicated by the fact that Jussy couldn't forgive Nelly for "stealing" one of her "false" babies from the linen drawer where she was raising them. Her false babies were little stuffed squeaky toys. About this time, she also decided that Zoe, another black sable kit, was her baby and held her hostage in a sleep sack for two days.

Try holding a nine-week-old kit hostage in a sleep sack -- I separated them and, of course, Jussy came right back in. This time, despite careful planning, the hob that I wished to breed her with was not ready. But at least he could take her down.

Shoot, I thought, I have a hob whose tongue was hanging out at being in the same room with a jill in season for two weeks. So I offered her to Shokie, who snatched her from me so fast Jussy got whiplash. While she did not appear to be fully in season, he at least certainly was enthusiastic. But I expected another false.

On each of her previous false pregnancies, Jussy was in the breeding cage over a week before due date. This time with a weekend show (not for ferrets), I didn't sterilize and set up the cage until Monday, with Jussy due on Thursday or Friday. Now before I tell you what happened, I am going to give you a little information on the mechanics of labor and delivery. If you breed, I expect you already know all of this and much more. If you don't -- don't breed. The following is only very basic information.

Regardless of the species, and whether you have a 21-day gestation with a mouse, 42 days with a ferret, or 640 days with an elephant, labor usually begins at the right time for that particular species, namely when the fetus is mature enough to cope with extra-uterine conditions but not too large to cause mechanical dystocias of labor. The process responsible for this is not clearly understood. Some of the reasons are thought to be increased sensitivity of the myometrium to oxytocin, decreased local sub-placental progesterone levels, and increased uterine irritability as a result of stretching and expanding of the corpus (body of the uterus).

The uterus is a remarkable organ, capable of actually expanding to approximately 200 times its normal size, and the only organ with the ability to generate new muscle cells. When you do body building, you are only increasing the size of cells you already have! Naturally, God in his infinite wisdom gave this amazing organ to the females of all mammals.

Thus when the time is right, your ferret (or your elephant) goes into labor. What is labor? How do those little guys get out of there? By the uterus contracting, you say. Well, there are actually three forces that dilate the cervix and force the fetus down the birth canal. The powerful contractions of the uterus pull open the cervix or mouth of the womb (after effacement, of course). The contractions push the presenting part of the ferret (usually the head -- more on this later) to cause a burrowing type of effect that eventually forces the kit into the birth canal. So far, all of this has been involuntary.

Once the kit is in the birth canal, the jill is in second stage and will feel a strong urge to bear down. Inexperienced jills interpret this as a bowel movement, which is why many a kit has been born in the litter box.

The above is a simplified version of a normal delivery with cephalic (head) presentation. Cephalic presentation is by far the most common. Presentation is the part of the fetus presenting for birth. Cephalic presentation is usually a vertex, which means that the back of the head (occiput) comes down the birth canal. There is also a face presentation in which the head is sharply flexed backwards. There is also a mentum presentation, in which the chin presents. Stay with me, we are not done yet.

You can also get a transverse lie, which fortunately is not too common, that I know of, in ferrets. Transverse lie is the kit presenting sideways. You can also get a shoulder presentation -- for instance, (and I'm just throwing this in here so that you will know I'm writing this in simplified form) a right-acromio-dorso-posterior presentation.

Now, the next presentation of a kit is, I think, the scariest for ferret breeders. That is, the breech presentation. There are several types of breech presentation. The frank breech presentation, in which the thighs and legs are extended over the anterior (front) of the body. This is also called a buttocks presentation. The full breech presentation in which the thighs may be flexed on the abdomen and the legs on the thighs. The foot or footling breech in which both feet may present or one foot may present with the other leg and foot stretched upwards in anterior position.

Breech presentation almost always causes dystocia (difficult mechanics of labor). There are many types of dystocia, such as uterine dysfunction, hypertonic or hypotonic contracts, infection, pelvic (in which the fetus is too large to pass the pelvis) and more. But I am only going to address breech here. (Thank God, I hear you sighing.)

Reduced to basics, the process of labor is the propulsion by certain forces of an irregular object -- the kit or passenger - through the birch canal or passage. Thus, there are only three factors in labor - the forces, the passenger, and the passage. When you have a breech presentation, one of the factors of the forces (contractions) is hampered. You have lost the burrowing effect of that hard little ferret head. Labor generally slows down, and the jill will continue to have contracts -- strong at first, but gradually weakening as the jill exhausts from prolonged labor. You will soon have an acute emergency on your hands -- many jills have died trying to deliver a breech. Also, when you have a breech presentation, such as a footling for example, the jill or you may be able to deliver most of the kit, but then you encounter pelvic dystocia where the shoulders and/or head is too large to deliver. While often an experienced breeder can deliver a breech, most become emergency C-sections, and most litters are lost unless they can rapidly be fostered to another recently delivered jill.

Although I could write dozens more pages on this subject, I will spare you and get back to Jussy's story.

Jussy went into the birthing cage Monday evening. She seemed restless, but this was not unusual because she rarely is caged. I checked her vulva, as I had several times a day, and it was small and clean. Felt her abdomen -- nothing unusual. Now in case you did not know, it is sometimes difficult to tell if a jill is pregnant. Her abdomen enlarged and was firm during two previous false pregnancies.

A short while later, I lay down on the bed to watch a tv show while reading a book. I kept hearing a little weeee sound. At first I thought it was my own asthma. Nope, not me. Checked under the comforter -- no ferrets having breathing problems -- and then I started to move the pile of bolster and decorative pillows against the headboard. To my shock, I found a newborn jill. She was perfectly clean and frigidly cold. I freaked. I rushed her to mama -- Jussy accepted her right away -- and then I started the search for other kits.

The first place I looked was the linen drawer where Jussy had kept her false babies. Finding Pepper in the drawer, I unceremoniously cast him aside. Another clean -- and this time, warm -- kit was beneath him. Baby went to Jussy, while I continued to ransack the room. No more kits were found. Then I checked Jussy – really checked Jussy. She was having contractions. I had no way at this point of knowing how long ago she had delivered the first kits. She certainly did not mention it and seemed to behave normally that day.

But it soon became apparent she was having a problem. She would leave the nest, circle and strain in the litter box, and then run back to her crying babies. Getting to the phone, I rousted two breeder friends out of bed asking for advice. Jussy was going into distress. I could not feel anything at the vulva when she strained. I suspected a breech and so did my friends.

I was preparing to transport her to our local emergency clinic when I felt what appeared to be a foot. Taking her and holding her in position, I gently but firmly pressed down on the fundus with the next contraction. Two tiny feet appeared. We had a footling presentation. I delivered the breech. I'm sorry, but I am not going to you directions on delivering a breech. The kit was stillborn, and though I immediately tried resuscitation, I knew he was gone.

Jussy had slipped into shock. She was cold, glassy-eyed, and exhausted. Her heartbeat came in rapid little flutters. I immediately set about stabilizing my Jussy.

Approximately a half-hour after our stillborn breech, Jussy popped out another baby. This wee jill was born without amniotic sac, placenta, or umbilical cord. Which explained the mystery of why the breech had happened. I did not expect her to be alive, but she quickly came around -- Jussy was too exhausted to help. Pretty soon the kit was peep, peep, peeping and Jussy tucked her close.

The kit found under the pillows passed away about 2 a.m. The remaining two seemed to be very vigorous. After things calmed down, I realized that Pepper, my "care ferret," whom I had rudely pitched out of the linen drawer, was responsible for that kit surviving. Pepper has helped raise many a kit from four weeks up – but never a newborn.

All day Tuesday, everything seemed fine. The kits were nursing. Whenever they would get away from Jussy and cry, Jussy would stick her head out and give me a very pointed stare. "Well, what are you doing? Get over here and fetch my babies!" I hoped she would get the idea and fetch them back herself -- perhaps when her milk came in.

There are several factors that affect lactation. The first lactation is actually colostrum, which is present for the first day or two and imparts vital antibodies to the kit. The lactation process is thought to be initiated by the sudden change of estrogen and progesterone in the mother's bloodstream. Interestingly, it is the high levels of estrogen that prevent lactation but permit breast development during pregnancy. With the placentas gone, the drop of these two hormones causes the release of prolactin from the pituitary. The kits vigorous sucking stimulation continues to promote release of this hormone, causing "milk letdown." The sucking from the kits also permits the uterus to return rapidly to normal size because of oxytocin effect. Sucking causes the uterus to contract.

At about midnight Tuesday, I knew we were in trouble. Jussy's milk was not coming in. She was tired following traumatic delivery, and two kits did not produce enough stimulation. Also, I learned from my vet that the kits at birth were premature by four to five days. Early Wednesday I began calling around to find a newly delivered jill to foster. No luck. Although I knew it would be futile, I tried hand feeding. The last kit born died about 2 p.m. Tuesday. The strongest kit, Pepper's rescue, was learning to take a wee dropper held to the side of the mouth. Out would furl the tiny tongue for nourishment. Not enough. This baby died at 6 a.m. Wednesday morning.

As I held the tiny body, still warm, in my hands I noted Skokie's worried face. He had been intently following the whole saga for two days. On impulse, I held the baby out to him. He sniffed the baby and with soft "um, um, um" noises started to gently lick it. I started to withdraw my hand and he put his teeth to my fingers and gently pulled me back. He continued to make soft cries and lick the kit. Well, that did it. I cried for three days, and every time I tried to talk to anyone.

And I just gave you an easy sad story. Many are worse. Every breeder has similar horror stories. And I have no idea why Jussy was premature. Perhaps a placenta abruptio. Maybe the breech died in utero. The breech baby was four inches long -- maybe Jussy had expanded to capacity.

I am very lucky that Jussy did not die. Don't breed. Don't breed. Don't breed.

By Meg Carpenter
(Editor's Note: No excerpt or excerpts from this article may be reprinted without express permission from the author.)