[connie777]

Hello to you all...
I have sad news that my sweet little Bentley is gone forever. I've been writing back to a friend since yesterday and my e-mail has gotten so long I decided to forward it to others as well. I can't tell the story more than once.
I wasn't going to put it on YorkieTalk because I am ashamed before you all that he died because of me. So please don't chastise me. I know it was my fault. But I want to share my loss with you anyway. This is what happened...and I love him and miss him so very much

This is what happened. The day after Christmas.
I was just about to leave for the lake to pick up Lydia (Irene and Scott's baby..mmy grandaughter) but opened the front door to get the mail first. He usually didn't shoot out the front door when I'd open it for the mail. He'd wait because I'd put my foot in the door and knew I'd give him some junkmail from the mailbox. He was always very excited - even snarly - about the mailman's arrival on the porch. It was one of the highlights of his day. That and the shipyard's noon whistle caused plently of barking. Otherwise he wasn't a barky dog unless he heard strange noises.
Bentley saw I had my coat and purse on. Generally when I'd leave the house through the front door he'd stay back from the door and look forlorn. Then he'd make a dash at the door as I closed it. I admit he did occasionally zip out the back door. Or of I opened the door for someone to come he'd go through the door to greet them but always followed them back into the house. The past couple busy holiday days with lots of comings and goings he discovered it was clever and fun to shoot out the back door when someone opened it and run around on this block....through the back yards. One day a few weeks ago he crossed the street behind my house because he knew katherine lives over there, He went up her stairway and barked... and hoped she'd open the door. She was home and let him inside in-order to catch him for me. He was always hoping to do that again.. and to go inside to see her bunny Babbette,
In the past, if he got out I could always get him quickly by going out myself and saying "come on Bentley...get in the car..let's go for a ride", That always worked. So when he ran out the front door Wednesday I went to my car, which was in the garage, opened the door and invited him to get in. He was zooming around the yard...and around the house but came into the garage. He was starting to be tricky with a 'catch me if you can' attitude the last two days. He came into the garage and was just about to jump into the car ...then changed his mind (probably getting wise to that trick). Instead he ran around to the other side of the car.
I was calling to him but he didn't come right away.
Then I heard a couple squeaks..unusual sounding muffled squeaks that sounded like he was hurt or stuck somewhere in the garage. I still thought he was on the other side of the car and wondered what could have hurt him over there. But as I looked around and behind me I saw him there on Michigan Street just beyond the end of my driveway. He was standing up-right..sort of hunched... looking at me for help but unable to move or terrified. It looked like he was injured at the shoulder...He looked so small...he was trying to move but looked unable to use his front left leg or move from the spot.
Cars were still moving by.. one slowed down when I entered the street and I raised my arms to stop him.

I picked Bentley up even though I knew it was wrong to do because of injuries. He didn't snap like an injured dog will. I knew I shouldn't handle him too much. It was all so fast. To get him into the car which was inside the garage would be a tight fit. The car doors don't open completely in there. So instead I carried him through my front door and lay him down.
As I carried him away from the road I knew he was alive because I could feel and hear him take a couple rough labored breaths.
I lay him on the floor inside the front door. He didn't move or seem to be breathing. I couldn't hear or feel a heart beat or pulse. He wasn't mangled and didn't have any visible outside bleeding. I think he died in my arms as I carried him in.
But I was not positive. I went to get something flat to slide under him to take him to a vet. When I moved him onto that I saw blood on the floor that had come from his nose and mouth and then I saw that some of his tongue was hanging out the other side of his mouth. His eyes were open. His gums were pale. Now I think, like Princess Diana, his aorta or something was ruptured when he was hit. I only hope that picking him up in the road didn't make it worse...as if he would have survived in an upright position. I don't really think so though. I don't think anyone in this town has the expertise to save him in time if he could have been saved.
I thought Katherine was at work and didn't want to upset her there by calling her.
I was pretty positive he was dead ...but you know how you'd not want to believe it just in case there was a faint heartbeat that I couldn't feel or hear.
I called Irene who was at work a few blocks away. I had to let her know what happened and that I couldn't get the baby. So they would have to arrange something else for Lydia before Scott went to work.
Irene left the store and came over in minutes.

Irene had gotten to know Bentley better in the last week because she and Lydia spent a few days and nights in a row at my house. She could see how sweet he was. Sometimes, when you only see a dog for a little while occasionally they just seem like barky little nuisances. But when you live with them around the clock you get to know their real personality.
Baby Lydia and Bentley were getting very close. They were simpatico. She would say "baw" (which is "ball"). She was meaning both ball and that exciting furry little guy who chased the ball and was near her almost every minute she was awake. Whenever she saw him or his toys she'd say "baw". When she wanted to see him or get his attention she would say "baw". She laughed the hardest at his antics... jumping, fetching, rolling over and doing "sit-up pretty' for her cheerios.


This picture is from the day I got Bentley. Irene went with me when I chose him from the litter. We took a thousand photos at my house, then took him to the beach to meet Scott and Irene's cocker Jake (my grandpuppy). Bentley was 9.5 weeks here and Jake was 10 years. He looks largeer on this picture because of the camera angle. Mext to jake he was very tiny then. On this photo Jake is walking quickly and Bentley is stretched out "flying" through the air to keep up with him. He was 3.5 pounds and Jake about 30 pounds.
We love this picture, Ot reminds me of a picture I've seen in a children's book somewhere.

When Bentley was little he had the coloring of his father...a full bred yorkie, But as he grew up his color changed from black and tan yorkie to a more blonde/gray and gold color like his mother who was Yorkie/s**tzu. He was a Yorkie/s**tzu aka Shorkie. In truth a mut with a catagory.. He looked mostly like his mom, Lily ...but she was 2 pounds larger.
Here are picture of his parents.
Anout Bentley and Lydia
Bentley knew he wasn't supposed to snitch and chew Lydia''s toys or steal her finger foods. Those things were a great temptation to him. He thought nothing was more fun than snitching a plastic star from Lydia and showing it to me for my reaction...then running round and round the dining table while I tried to get it back. After a while and trying to pry his mouth open like he was a snapping tutle holding on to someone's gloves or hat, I learned that a squirt from a water bottle made him drop it instantly. After he experienced a few squirts all I had to do was make a trigger motion and say "pssst'...and he'd drop whatever he had. But we lost a lot of big legos and a teething ring before we learned that.

For bentley playing with Lydia was literally as easy as taking candy from a baby ...she had crackers, cheese and Cheerios! And now with Lydia at ten months her favorite game was actually offering him her toys and cherrios !!!
I could see his brain was working on that. " Mom and Irene are saying "Bentley! Leave it !!! .....but this baby's putting that cheese right into my mouth!".
We finally gave that up and he got to eat the cheese and cheerios she handed him or dropped purposely on the floor from her highchair.
When she was on the floor (she's not quite crawling yet...but very close) he would enjoy lying on a pillow very near her and squeaking his squeaky toys while she played with something or drank her bottle. Of course he always thought baby talk was for him too when he heard us talking so sweetly to her. Because he was my baby and I talked often to him in the same tone. She was learning to push him away when he got too close or in her face... and tickled her with his mustache. He was starting to see her as a superior human ...but taking advantage of her childlike "puppiness" as long as they could.

****This email is continued in my next post.....it's too long for one post