My first Yorkie was a rescue in a way. My Vet ask me if I could foster a puppy, that was supposed to be put to sleep. He was healthy and just needed a home. Mr. Nonames Here had a litter of Yorkies. Three puppies, two tiny little females and a rather large male.
By the time the puppies were 4 weeks old Mr. Nonames Here really could not bear the sight of what he call 'a ugly Neanderthal Yorkie. He was twice the size of his delicate sisters. His bitch and stud were beautiful show dogs. How anything that clumsy, giant, and so not showable, could come from the perfect match ? He was appalled and embarrassed him. So he felt the best thing was to put the puppy to sleep , just like he had never been born.
The Vet in good conscious could not put the puppy down and told Mr. Names Here he would find him a home instead. Mr. Nonames Here agreed as long as his name or line were ever revealed. ( I am serious ).
Wrapping this story up is easy. This pup with the floppy ears and beautiful eyes became my first Yorkie Willbe. Named Willbe because he was my baby and
always will be my baby.
Willbe lived to be 12 years old. He weighed about 10 pounds. He was my baby, companion and dear friend. I still miss him today.