He was originally purchased by a couple from a Pet Shop. They soon separate and give the little one to their next door neighbor. The next door neighbor has two young children, apparently he did not like these children. He would hide from them. It would seem to me they had to abuse him or he would not act like that. These children came to visit him after Nic-O-Las came to live with me and he found a place to hide from them. Whatever the problem he still remembers. I don't blame him, in just 4 months he goes from being snatched from his mother to a Pet Shop to a couple. The couple separate and he goes to the next door neighbor with 2 children that he did not like. He comes to my house which makes 5 homes in 16 weeks. Do you doubt the little one would have mental scars, especially from the 2 monsters. Nic-O-Las by no means has been the ideal pet. Can you blame him. Hell most of us probably have childhood baggage and I have not been the perfect husband. Dogs have feelings too! They have their own individual personalities, give love and accept love. He goes from an adorable puppy, possibly from a puppy mill (I recommend the original Benji movie that talks about this). He grows up to be rather large for a Yorkie.
He becomes my buddy who's love remained constant. He knew when I was sick and would try to make me feel better. He can make me laugh when he is so full of himself. He made me cry as he almost die. He has never been perfect just as I but we are 'Buddies."
I buy a toy that barks and I find the voice gizmo and one tiny battery the night he became sick. He carried that toy around proudly a few days before he was sick.
I do feel certain, had I not intervened as I pick his cold lifeless body off the ground, that he would of lay there and died. He was in a state of shock and given up. He simply did not know what to do. I share with him my body warmth and love by rubbing his chest and belly. I soothe him and instill a reason to fight. I am convinced of this beyond a shadow of a doubt. His heart once beating slowly returns to normal in a few hours. I witness his shallow breathing become deeper, taking in life once again. This I know as I hold him and comfort him for several hours. His cold limp body was slowly warming from within and outward as I hold him and he lies beside me in my bed. He was not alone, we fight together, choosing life. Once he drank although slowly he began coming back to me. A ray of light shines like a lighthouse on a foggy night. Once lost now found. Drinking pushing the toxins out. Hope springs eternal.
I return with chicken and rice. I spot his tail wag as I open the door renewing my hope. He eats 2 bites and lick my fingers clean. The tiny bites become 2 spoonfuls within 12 hours. His once cold body is now warm. He rolls over playfully and wants me to rub his belly. This has always been common with him. He has gone from showing little signs of life when I pick him up off the ground. He is at my feet as I write this story chronicling his last 50 hours of normalcy.
He is not perfect, just as I but we are pals come hell or high water or contaminated "Crap" from China. We are "kindred spirits" and I wish for him to die of old age on my lap.
You see only one week before his "belly ache from hell," I thought that I might have to make a trip to the emergency room. I receive a flu shot and a tetanus shot within 7 days and that triggered a bad reaction to my body.