The Yorkie Gods Have Smiled on Me At Last!

Ursa and I have been discussing with each other the concept of the Yorkie gods and their expressed displeasure with me.

You see, I used to be a great favorite with the Yorkie gods. They smiled on me early in life and granted me my very first job. When I was but a lowly snot-nosed brat in eighth grade, a former teacher of mine hired me to care for her dogs whenever she left town. Now, this was a very good gig for me. Mrs. A and her husband went to each and every single home game of their alma mater which was several hours away, so their absences were frequent. Also, they lived in a penthouse on the water with a magnificent view, killer sound system, plush furnishings, and expanded cable, which is where I stayed when I dogsat for her. The dogs themselves were little Yorkie darlings who were a lot of fun to play with and fairly easy to care for. Since then I always had a soft spot for the breed.

So, when M got her little Yorkie puppy, I was initially excited. That excitement faded quickly, however. She is overly excitable, still isn't potty trained, and no amount of washing can get her to stop smelling so miserably dog-like.

The Yorkie gods continued to grimace at me this week at work. A couple of our guests had brought their Yorkie with them to our pet-friendly hotel. The little dear was dressed in fully doggy couture that M and I estimated to be at least $800. And no, we weren't kidding. $800 for a black doggy T-shirt. Anyway, the guests didn't want their dog to be alone while they went around the city and saw the sights, so they left him in our office to take care of. At night, that meant they left him with me. Initially, I was excited. After all, Bad Dog had not completely soured me on the breed yet--just mostly. Well, Yorkie #2 finished that off. He yipped and cried and fussed and refused to play. he wanted to be held the entire time. I was not willing to do this however, considering that at some point before he had come into our office he had peed all over the bottom of his very expensive shirt. Meanwhile, I was still taking calls and trying to sell rooms at our very luxurious property--while a dog yipped and cried in the background.

It was at this point that Ursa asked me how and when I had angered the Yorkie gods and suggested that I go about trying to appease them.

It seems that things have finally balanced out, however. This week, M announced that Bad Dog is going to be attending doggy daycare!!! How exciting is that? There will be no unauthorized bodily fluids or canine offal to clean up until I come home at night at ten, no barking, no yipping, no crying, no chewing, no biting...you get the idea. Almost as good, last night, M invested in a Yorkie-proof baby gate and we lined the kitchen with housebreaking pads. It looks like my Yorkie luck is turning around at last....