Hey,
I've actually been running around this site since March, and thought it was time to step up and say "Hi" to all ya'll and carry the torch for all the Yorkie owners that are male.
My Yorkie "Chili" and I have been together since Last Dec and he just turned 1yr old in Oct.
I gotta tell ya that this place has been an invaluable source of info for me and greatly aided me in raising Chili to be a disciplined, healthy, and happy 'lill pup.
It all started when a Yorkie I had found and tried to save, died on the same day I found him. After that I never stopped thinking about him and thought what a wonderful addition A Yorkie would be in my life.
I did alot of research about the breed ( a large portion of it here) and sought out a breeder in my area.
Fast forward one year and I have a smart, well behaved, trick preforming, 16 pound guy with tons of personality.
He loves learning new tricks and running so we're always working on a clicker trained trick and twice a day he runs while I ride my mountain bike beside him. The neighborhood kids think it hilarious and I can't help but think thats how he got so muscular!
Anyway I though ya'll might wanna read the poem I wrote about the 'lill guy I lost and how he started me down this road.
Its funny how it doesn't matter if you've owned a dog 5 hours or 15 years their ability to touch our lives is equally profound.
I look forward to spending more time here
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Nameless 5/17/07
The morning was clear and cool. Unseasonably so for this time of year but being late for work I hardly noticed. I backed my truck out of its usual parking spot, stuck the standard shift into first and hurried off.
Then I saw him………
At the end of his terrible journey he had traveled as far as his weakened body would take him. He had lost the strength and the will to fight and had lain down and given up. Tired, scared, exhausted, and alone, he had curled up in a ball on the parking lot concrete and stopped. Traffic drove around him.
He was helpless………
His eye was crusted shut and his fur was matted. Weak and unable to stand he was infected with fleas who were literally sucking the life from him.
He was beautiful…….
I comforted him and told him he was mine and I promised him everything would be ok now. I told him I would save him and I would replace his pain with joy.
He only had four hours left to live.
I’ll always wonder where he came from. I’ll never know whether he was discarded by an uncaring owner or simply the victim of an open door. His collar alludes to a family filled past and I can close my eyes and imagine him in a warm safe home perched upon some ones lap happily squinting as he enjoyed the casual petting of his TV watching owner.
Perhaps they are grieving his loss too.
By the time we met his fate was already sealed.
Lying on his blanket on the examination table he uttered the only sound I ever heard him make. A small sigh in response to the warm water bottle that was being placed on his belly. But all the probing, sticking, and enthusiastic attempts were to be in vein. In the Doctors arms and with his life cycle complete, he gasped one last time before surrender.
And so it was that on this fine spring Thursday afternoon I had unexpectedly lost a kindred spirit.
And for a short while, before he died, I loved him and he was mine.
And I never even got to name him……………………..