*Please note: This page needs to be updated. We have moved away from the original farm in Bronson and are currently located just outside Gainesville, FL, and are on a large lot with a fenced backyard - not a farm. We are planning to move to Alaska in the spring of 2022, and will hopefully begin breeding again up there once we are settled. Any information on this page regarding the dogs' housing arrangements and daily activities is no longer current, due to the change in living situation.
I have always loved dogs. One of my early childhood memories is praying that a Rough Collie puppy (what child has not felt the influence of "Lassie?") would drop through the ceiling of my bedroom and into my arms. I knew I would not be able to have a Rough Collie unless it appeared in some such miraculous way. We lived in the city, but because we were one of the first houses on our street and were surrounded by pine trees, blackberry bushes, and the inevitable Florida palmettos, I always thought we lived in the country. Still, I sensed that my parents would not let me have a puppy unless it came miraculously. I believe that God is fully capable of doing anything and that miracles still happen, but that one did not. The Rough Collie puppy never appeared.
Fast forward to Christmas Day, 2004. I was 11. We were living in a rental house in a crowded neighborhood, but were in the process of moving to 9 acres on a lake near Barberville, FL, my mother's hometown. Our Christmas celebration wasn't anything fancy that year; we didn't even have a tree, except for the straggling artificial shrub in the living room (which looked something like an anorexic deciduous bush, decked out with Christmas lights and paper ornaments.) But we were all together and were happy.
After our traditional Christmas morning breakfast of cinnamon rolls and scrambled eggs, Mama told all of us children to look out the stationary glass doors into the Florida room. We obediently smudged our noses on the glass, looking for some wonder to appear. A moment later the wonder DID appear. Daddy strode in, holding a large, black and white puppy. The puppy stared at us with friendly, but wide, frightened, brown eyes, and wagged his tail apologetically in Daddy's arms. We stared at him with amazed blue eyes and set up a yell of astonished delight, then raced pell-mell through the kitchen to the working set of sliding glass doors and out into the Florida room. So began my acquaintance with the Border collie breed.
Fast forward again. Davy, the Christmas Day Border collie, was stolen before we had owned him a year. We were heartbroken and for years I dreamed of finding him again. "Homeward Bound," or any other story involving a long-lost pet returning to its owner, would always make me cry. We had other dogs: an Aussie with hip dysplasia, a vicious BC mix (which we had to put down), a massive Doberman/ Shepherd, which tried to attack Daddy, and so forth. Finally, we got another puppy: Kep, a Springer Spaniel/ Border collie. He is now in his late years, drastically overweight, and the self-appointed grandpa to all the dogs and children on the farm, but in his younger days, Kep was my hero dog. I trained him the best I knew how. He would come, sit, stay, lie down, herd ducks, geese, cows (mostly by running toward me while the cow chased him), and goats. He would even slam doors on command and could jump or climb almost anything. Inez, our Great Pyrenees livestock guardian and family pet, joined us when Kep was about two years old because Kep had a bad habit of sleeping on the porch while the local foxes taught their cubs how to hunt, using our chickens for their first targets. (Inez put an instant stop to this enterprise.)
We didn't really know much about dogs, including how to tell when they came in heat, so to our surprise, Inez became pregnant. She ended up having several litters of puppies, mostly from our neighbor's good natured, free-roaming Lab. I raised the pups very carefully and enjoyed it so much that I decided I wanted to raise more dogs - and do it right, planning the litters. Of course, I learned something with every litter from Inez - most importantly, how to research various issues on my own.
I began talking to Daddy about the possibility of raising dogs. At first, I went back to my old idea of owning a Rough Collie but Daddy loved Borders and since I still lived at home and liked Borders almost as much as Roughs, I readily gave in. I began researching breeders, and in the process, learning more about health testing, puppy contracts, temperaments, websites, colors, and other details of breeding Border collies. We were taking a family trip to visit family in Kentucky and friends in Michigan, so I researched all the breeders I could find between Florida and Michigan. Naturally, my favorite breeder was in Michigan, which didn't seem to be a good option because the trip was so long. I put a deposit down on a puppy in GA, but that fell through. Through various other twists and turns of providence (which I will not inflict on you right now because this is already more than long and detailed enough) I put down a deposit on a 7 week old blue merle female in Michigan.
Enter Cleone.
Fast forward to Christmas Day, 2004. I was 11. We were living in a rental house in a crowded neighborhood, but were in the process of moving to 9 acres on a lake near Barberville, FL, my mother's hometown. Our Christmas celebration wasn't anything fancy that year; we didn't even have a tree, except for the straggling artificial shrub in the living room (which looked something like an anorexic deciduous bush, decked out with Christmas lights and paper ornaments.) But we were all together and were happy.
After our traditional Christmas morning breakfast of cinnamon rolls and scrambled eggs, Mama told all of us children to look out the stationary glass doors into the Florida room. We obediently smudged our noses on the glass, looking for some wonder to appear. A moment later the wonder DID appear. Daddy strode in, holding a large, black and white puppy. The puppy stared at us with friendly, but wide, frightened, brown eyes, and wagged his tail apologetically in Daddy's arms. We stared at him with amazed blue eyes and set up a yell of astonished delight, then raced pell-mell through the kitchen to the working set of sliding glass doors and out into the Florida room. So began my acquaintance with the Border collie breed.
Fast forward again. Davy, the Christmas Day Border collie, was stolen before we had owned him a year. We were heartbroken and for years I dreamed of finding him again. "Homeward Bound," or any other story involving a long-lost pet returning to its owner, would always make me cry. We had other dogs: an Aussie with hip dysplasia, a vicious BC mix (which we had to put down), a massive Doberman/ Shepherd, which tried to attack Daddy, and so forth. Finally, we got another puppy: Kep, a Springer Spaniel/ Border collie. He is now in his late years, drastically overweight, and the self-appointed grandpa to all the dogs and children on the farm, but in his younger days, Kep was my hero dog. I trained him the best I knew how. He would come, sit, stay, lie down, herd ducks, geese, cows (mostly by running toward me while the cow chased him), and goats. He would even slam doors on command and could jump or climb almost anything. Inez, our Great Pyrenees livestock guardian and family pet, joined us when Kep was about two years old because Kep had a bad habit of sleeping on the porch while the local foxes taught their cubs how to hunt, using our chickens for their first targets. (Inez put an instant stop to this enterprise.)
We didn't really know much about dogs, including how to tell when they came in heat, so to our surprise, Inez became pregnant. She ended up having several litters of puppies, mostly from our neighbor's good natured, free-roaming Lab. I raised the pups very carefully and enjoyed it so much that I decided I wanted to raise more dogs - and do it right, planning the litters. Of course, I learned something with every litter from Inez - most importantly, how to research various issues on my own.
I began talking to Daddy about the possibility of raising dogs. At first, I went back to my old idea of owning a Rough Collie but Daddy loved Borders and since I still lived at home and liked Borders almost as much as Roughs, I readily gave in. I began researching breeders, and in the process, learning more about health testing, puppy contracts, temperaments, websites, colors, and other details of breeding Border collies. We were taking a family trip to visit family in Kentucky and friends in Michigan, so I researched all the breeders I could find between Florida and Michigan. Naturally, my favorite breeder was in Michigan, which didn't seem to be a good option because the trip was so long. I put a deposit down on a puppy in GA, but that fell through. Through various other twists and turns of providence (which I will not inflict on you right now because this is already more than long and detailed enough) I put down a deposit on a 7 week old blue merle female in Michigan.
Enter Cleone.
Cleone is the kind of dog that most people can only dream of having. At least, she seems that way to me. (The guests who have unsuspectingly stepped out of their cars, only to receive an enthusiastic "kiss" on the lips from her might disagree.) She is beautiful, sweet, a hard worker, has great natural balance, very respectful (except for the aforementioned propensity to kiss unsuspecting visitors), and also has an excellent off switch. In fact, Cleone is one of those dogs who makes it kind of hard to own others, because none of them can match up to her.
Duncan came next. He couldn't quite match Cleone, but he balanced out her few weak points. Duncan worshiped me and loved the rest of the family, too. He was harder to train than Cleone (but every other dog I have attempted to train has also been harder) and he didn't have her natural balance.
Due to health issues which appeared in some puppies from Duncan, I sadly had to rehome him. He is doing very well with his owners and is a blessing to them.
Due to health issues which appeared in some puppies from Duncan, I sadly had to rehome him. He is doing very well with his owners and is a blessing to them.
Flora is the big boned, puppyish "teenager" of the bunch right now. She is still learning, but she has great natural balance and is my most devoted dog. She is a bit like a shadow, and almost always manages to stay close to me.
Altogether, I am very happy with my pack.
Health testing is EXTREMELY important to me and all my dogs are tested for CEA, IGS, TNS, SN, MDR1, NCL, and Glaucoma. Hips and elbows are also OFA checked at the age of 24 months or older. I will not sell my puppies to just anyone because I don't want the puppy or owner ending up in a bad situation, so I try to get to know people a little bit before taking a deposit on a puppy. I provide lifetime support for all of my pups and sell all of them with a contract. While puppies are in my care, I post weekly updates with individual pictures and/or videos of the puppies, detailing the care they receive, and including some of the behind-the-scenes aspects of raising them. I believe it is important that owners understand as fully as possible the environment in which their puppies are raised and that anyone who buys a puppy from me has a right to know how it is being treated.
Altogether, I am very happy with my pack.
Health testing is EXTREMELY important to me and all my dogs are tested for CEA, IGS, TNS, SN, MDR1, NCL, and Glaucoma. Hips and elbows are also OFA checked at the age of 24 months or older. I will not sell my puppies to just anyone because I don't want the puppy or owner ending up in a bad situation, so I try to get to know people a little bit before taking a deposit on a puppy. I provide lifetime support for all of my pups and sell all of them with a contract. While puppies are in my care, I post weekly updates with individual pictures and/or videos of the puppies, detailing the care they receive, and including some of the behind-the-scenes aspects of raising them. I believe it is important that owners understand as fully as possible the environment in which their puppies are raised and that anyone who buys a puppy from me has a right to know how it is being treated.
The result? Healthy puppies, happy owners, and a happy and always learning breeder. I have made mistakes, and lots of them, but mistakes are an opportunity to learn, not a reason to sit down on the ground, throw up one's hands, and give up the whole idea. I believe that responsible breeders are the best friends dogs have, and that if the general public would commit to buy only from responsible breeders, those who do not breed responsibly would eventually have to stop because they would have no market.
I have no business breeding if I'm not helping to improve the breed. That means that my dogs must be healthy, temperamentally sound, and talented. If this sounds like what you are looking for, please contact me. I would love to hear from you!
~ Alayna
I have no business breeding if I'm not helping to improve the breed. That means that my dogs must be healthy, temperamentally sound, and talented. If this sounds like what you are looking for, please contact me. I would love to hear from you!
~ Alayna
Feldman Family Farm
(Click the title to visit our farm website.)
Feldman Family Farm, or The Sandspur Ranch, is our small family farm. We are located in north central Florida, between the tiny towns of Williston and Bronson. Our farm is more a source of healthy food and hard work than income, but we love raising our dairy cows and goats, chickens, horses, and of course, Border collies.
I, Alayna, am the one who really loves the farm and I manage all the animals. I am the oldest child in our large family, and most of my siblings, especially my younger brothers, help out. I really appreciate the opportunity to raise animals, grow a garden, and live in the country, and am thankful to God and my parents for how we have been raised.
We want to raise as much of our food as possible, so that we can eat high-quality, organic, whole foods, instead of the genetically modified, highly-processed, antibiotic and preservative- laced foods available from the store.
Also, operating a family farm is a great way to teach children the value of hard work, and diligence in their work. We are learning valuable skills, such as dairying, animal husbandry, and gardening.
Life is busy, and we don't foresee much expansion of our farm at this point, especially since we live in the "sandhills" region of Florida and not much grows here but sandspurs (wonder where that name came from?), but we are thankful for our little farm and continue to strive for the best quality we can reasonably attain.
So our dogs will be healthy, from good-tempered parents, and be raised in a friendly, family setting. You can rest assured that a puppy raised by us will receive lots of loving attention and be well-equipped for its new home. And if you come out to visit, just beware of stepping on a sandspur!
Feldman Family Farm, or The Sandspur Ranch, is our small family farm. We are located in north central Florida, between the tiny towns of Williston and Bronson. Our farm is more a source of healthy food and hard work than income, but we love raising our dairy cows and goats, chickens, horses, and of course, Border collies.
I, Alayna, am the one who really loves the farm and I manage all the animals. I am the oldest child in our large family, and most of my siblings, especially my younger brothers, help out. I really appreciate the opportunity to raise animals, grow a garden, and live in the country, and am thankful to God and my parents for how we have been raised.
We want to raise as much of our food as possible, so that we can eat high-quality, organic, whole foods, instead of the genetically modified, highly-processed, antibiotic and preservative- laced foods available from the store.
Also, operating a family farm is a great way to teach children the value of hard work, and diligence in their work. We are learning valuable skills, such as dairying, animal husbandry, and gardening.
Life is busy, and we don't foresee much expansion of our farm at this point, especially since we live in the "sandhills" region of Florida and not much grows here but sandspurs (wonder where that name came from?), but we are thankful for our little farm and continue to strive for the best quality we can reasonably attain.
So our dogs will be healthy, from good-tempered parents, and be raised in a friendly, family setting. You can rest assured that a puppy raised by us will receive lots of loving attention and be well-equipped for its new home. And if you come out to visit, just beware of stepping on a sandspur!