You Shouldn’t Keep the First Puppy from a Litter

Oh, the first litter. It’s something else, isn’t it? All tiny and squirming, blind little beans piling on top of each other, making those sweet, helpless sounds. And then, you see that one. Maybe it’s the one that was born first, tiny and determined, pushing its way to mom. Or maybe it’s just the one you noticed first, the one that seemed a little louder, a little bolder, or maybe just happened to be on top of the pile when you peered in. And instantly, a thought, sticky and warm, lodges itself in your brain: “This one. This one is special. This one… we should keep this one.”

Let me tell you something, speaking from years of muddy paws, sleepless nights, and the bittersweet ache of letting little lives go: That thought? It’s usually pure, unadulterated emotion hijacking your sensible brain. And you absolutely, positively, almost always, should not keep the first puppy from a litter. Or even the second, or the third, just because they caught your eye early.

Why? It boils down to a few hard truths about what it means to be a responsible breeder, and frankly, what it means to be a responsible dog owner. First off, the whole “first born is special” thing is sentimental fluff. Biologically, the first born might have had a slightly easier journey out, but that doesn’t magically imbue it with superior genetics, temperament, or health prospects compared to its siblings born minutes later. It’s an arbitrary marker in time. Yet, we humans, we cling to these things, don’t we? The first tooth, the first step, the first puppy. It feels significant. But for a puppy’s future, and for the future of your breeding program (if you have one), it’s irrelevant.

The real issue is objectivity. When that first puppy wiggles into your heart the moment it wiggles out of its mother, you’re already compromised. You haven’t seen the litter develop. You haven’t seen their individual personalities emerge. You haven’t seen which one has the conformation closest to your breed standard, which one has the most stable temperament for a particular kind of home, which one shows potential for performance or showing, or frankly, which one is just the most average – which can sometimes be exactly what a family needs!

Imagine it: Here are these eight tiny, identical (to the untrained eye) creatures. For the first few weeks, they’re mostly eating and sleeping. But then, around four or five weeks, they start to wake up. They play-fight, they explore, they react to new sounds and sights. This is when you start to see who they are. Is one the fearless explorer, first out of the whelping box? Is another the cautious observer? Is one the class clown, always instigating trouble? Is one the gentle soul, happier snuggled up? The puppy you pegged as “the one” at day one might turn out to have a super high drive that clashes with your couch-potato lifestyle, or a sensitive nature that needs a quieter home than yours can provide, or maybe, just maybe, it’s perfectly lovely but not the best example of the breed you’ve produced.

A responsible breeder’s primary goal, once the puppies are healthy and thriving, is finding the absolute best possible home for each individual puppy. Not just a good home, but the right home. This puppy needs an active family who hikes every weekend. That one would thrive with an older couple who just want a companion. This little firecracker needs a job and someone experienced in dog sports. That shy girl needs patience and a quiet environment.

When you’ve already decided that the “first” one is yours, you are, perhaps unconsciously, removing the best potential home for that specific puppy from the equation. What if the perfect family for that bold, first-born explorer is the one who contacted you looking for a hiking partner? What if the perfect match for that snuggly little bean (who happened to be born first) is the retired teacher yearning for a lap dog? Your home might be great, sure, but is it the optimal environment for that particular dog’s inherent personality and needs?

Responsible breeding isn’t about accumulating dogs. It’s about improving the breed and ensuring the animals you bring into the world contribute positively. Sometimes, the best dog from a litter – the one you should consider keeping for future breeding or showing – might be born fifth, or seventh. It might be the quiet one in the corner who, upon closer inspection, has perfect angulation and a beautifully classic head. Or it might be the one whose temperament, tested rigorously, proves to be the most stable and true to the breed standard. You can’t know any of that on day one. Deciding to keep the first born before you’ve even evaluated the litter properly is like buying the first car you see at the dealership just because it was parked closest to the door, without checking the engine, the features, or if it even fits your needs. It’s impulsive, emotional, and often leads to a mismatch down the road.

I remember my third litter. Seven bouncing, noisy pups. The first one out was a little girl, strong and feisty right away. Everyone who came to visit in the early weeks would point her out – “Oh, she’s the first! She’s so full of life!” And yeah, she was adorable. For a little while, I let that seed of “maybe we keep her” grow. But as they got older, a different puppy, born somewhere in the middle of the chaos, started to stand out. She was quieter, more observant, but incredibly steady and intelligent. She had the bone structure I was aiming for, the exact look in her eye I wanted, and a temperament that suggested she’d be a rock-solid adult, trainable and calm, yet capable. The little firecracker first-born? She turned out to be a handful, brilliant but needing a very specific, high-energy outlet. If I’d stuck to my initial, emotional pull towards the first born, I would have missed placing that energetic pup with the agility trainer who was absolutely the perfect human for her, and I would have kept a dog that, while loved, wouldn’t have been the ideal step forward for my lines, nor the perfect fit for the quieter side of my own life. The “middle” pup, the quiet observer, she was the one who stayed. And she was magnificent.

Letting go is hard. Every single puppy takes a piece of your heart with them. The “first one” feels like the hardest to let go of because you’ve bonded with the idea of it longer. But building a responsible breeding program, or even just being a responsible person who brings puppies into the world, requires you to prioritize the puppies’ futures over your immediate emotional gratification. It requires you to look at a litter not as extensions of yourself you must cling to, but as individual beings you have a duty to steward into the right hands.

So, next time you find yourself gazing into the whelping box at that first tiny face, take a breath. Enjoy the moment, cherish the miracle of life, but don’t mark that one as “yours” just yet. Wait. Watch. Evaluate. Get to know all of them. And when it comes time to make those tough decisions, base them on temperament testing, structural evaluation, potential fit for a home, and your long-term goals – not on which little miracle happened to arrive first. Your job is to be their temporary guardian and placement agent, finding them their forever people. And sometimes, often, the very best “forever people” for that special first puppy… are not you. And that’s okay. That’s more than okay. That’s responsible. That’s love, the kind that puts their needs first.