OH YEAH, YOU WANT A PIECE A ME?
We swore off Yorkies, forever, about a year ago. We replaced all the carpets in the house and settled down with our four year old mellow, house trained, sweet Border Collie, Buddy. Life was saccharine for about six months when my wife had a relapse of a disease she has suffered with for 35 plus years now, Yorkitis. It is a serious infection that attacks the heart the minute you find yourself without a Yorkie.
“Can we please get another Yorkie?” “NO.” “Please?” “No.” “Pleeeease?” “no.” “Please?” “Okay if you promise to house train it immediately.” “Okay.”
We picked the little guy up and brought him home to his big brother, Buddy. We named him Ike, short for Eisenhower. Our males have been named for great Generals. We have had Wellington, MacArthur and now Ike. Ike moved in and completely took over the house. My wife went to work immediately house training him, and low and behold he has not made a single mistake. Knock on wood. The first Yorkie we have owned that is truly house trained.
Ike actually thinks that Buddy is his brother. They get along famously. They play hard together, fight eachother, run all over the place together, they are nearly inseperable. Buddy has taught Ike everything he knows, giving Ike a four year jump on the lessons of life. Sixty pound Buddy, likes to play tug of war with six pound Ike. Ike digs in and pulls with all his might, seriously thinking he has some skin in the game, and Buddy merely raises up his head and breaks Ike’s traction. As soon as Buddy lets Ike back down, he digs in again.
We have no idea what we have created in this little guy. Is he a Yorder Collie? Is he a Borkie? Maybe a Borkshire Terrier? He runs like a Border, tracks like a Border, herds like a Border, but sure as hell doesn’t look like a Border. What hath we wrought.
