I bought Jessie in a pet shop in Poughkeepsie, Thanksgiving 2003, when I really wasn't looking for a dog.  He and his little best friend, Chucky, were adopted on the same day.  My best friends bought Chucky and I bought Jessie, a little Yorkie, a skinny, tiny, puppy who slept in my arms until he arrived home.  He was suddenly a little bundle of hair with enough energy for a dozen Yorkies.  We went through the nipping, the chewing, the teething, the wee wee pads and the furniture.  Even though he spent all day in doggie day care with Chucky, we still had to play at home for at least an hour with his favorite toys, his rope and his sock.  When he tired of play he would sit on my lap and chew a rawhide until he fell asleep.  He died suddenly, at his day care while he was getting ready to have his picture taken with Santa.  He was 15 months old and there is still no apparant cause for his death.  He was my best friend, my protector, my therapist and my life.  I miss him dearly and part of my heart stopped beating along with his.  I love you Jessie.