My first dog was a male Yorkie, back in '85. My uncle had owned Yorkies for years, really sweet dogs with the typical terrier devilish side to them.
I had been living in an apartment for a few years, with my future ex-wife. Driving home, we see an older gentleman, out on the front lawn, with an adult yorkie, along with a handful of pups. Not being the shy sort, I stop, just to bs & check out the dogs. Older retired guy, Irishman with the brough. His main concern was making beautiful dogs, we were in no way looking to buy a dog, he wasn't all too concerned with selling them. We were too busy talking dogs. He bred a litter every year or two, for many years. No advertising, just word of mouth to local folks, a real basic sales tactic, if you could even call it a sales tactic.
As it ends up, the pups were $300. Our rent at the time was $300. Lots of hot dogs, spaghetti, & eating at the folks the next few months, spare money went towards the pup. His crate was an actual milk crate, my wife was not working at the time, so there was plenty of training time. We trained him to do his business outside, in a third floor apartment with no elevator. Yes, he did all the stairs coming & going.
A year later we got a house, along with a Westie pup. Several years later we got divorced, I told her to keep both dogs, they were used to being together & my 2 year old son was used to having them around, no reason to let a little divorce break up such a great team.
That Yorkie lived to be 16 years old, the Westie passed less than a week after he died. They were both a great compliment to each other, the Yorkie was raised around the squirrels we fed around the apartment, and used to actually hang out with half a dozen squirrels when we fed them, no threat to each other at all. He was a very quiet, well behaved, prim & proper house dog. The Westie was 110% hole dogging squirrel chasing terrier, who would live in the back yard given the chance.
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