Raised on a ranch with "cow dogs", I never thought I'd want a "little dog".  Neither did my husband.  In fact when we got our first Yorkshire Terrier, Molly Joanne he didn't want her.  My how things change!  This is the story of how we began and how we grew into loving and raising the best "little dogs" in the world.  It is a story of love and heartache and a perfect example of how God can take what the devil means to use to destroy you and instead let you take something good from it.

   I bought Molly our Yorkshire Terrier Puppy, for my sister Joanne when her little dog Tina got run over by a car.  Joanne was fighting cancer and was very ill.  I knew that she missed Tina, and thought another companion would cheer her up.  It did.  Joanne loved Molly dearly.  She would laugh when Molly brought her food bowl to her in her mouth to tell her she was out of food.  Molly cuddled with her and comforted her when she couldn't get up and was company for her during the day when everyone was gone to work or school.  Molly loved Joanne and Joanne loved Molly.  Even at a very young age, I think Molly sensed just how sick Joanne was.  She would do funny things to make her laugh when she was awake or lay quiet with her when she needed to rest.  Unfortunately, it wasn't long before Joanne knew she couldn't take care of Molly like she deserved.  She asked my husband Bill and me to take her to live with us.  Bill said he didn't want another dog, let alone a little dog.  I said I didn't either, but I didn't want to upset my sister.  It was important to her that Molly have the best care possible and she knew we were the right home for her.  He would agree, he said, on the condition that if she didn't fit into our "animal family", I would make an honest effort to find her another home.  I think he was hoping that would happen.  But it was not to be.  When I brought Molly home, she went straight to him, climbed up into his lap, and has been there ever since.  She is definitely her "Daddy's dog".  And she rules the roost.  He says she loves him best.  I say she just knows who to suck up to in order to be assured she is allowed to continue to live the life of luxury she's become accustomed to.  He didn't want me to bring her home.  Now if I were to come home without her, he'd send me away until I brought her back.  (I tease him that his girlfriend is a real dog!)  My wonderful sister Joanne, died on December 7th, 1994.  Our hearts were broken.  Through her death, I learned some very important lessons about family, responsibility, and God's love and comfort.  I also learned not to sweat the small stuff.  And I learned that big love comes in small, hairy packages with four little feet.  Molly Joanne is the most important "thing" my sister gave me to remember her by; not that I could ever forget her.

  Thank you Joanne.  I love you and miss you so much.  Your gift of love led me to my calling, my passion.... Yorkshire Terrier Breeder.
Big love - small package.