I got my first dog (of my own) when I was 6 years old. Mom wanted a Yorkshire Terrier, and we knew of a breeder that had two male puppies (littermates) available. Mom and Dad drove to their house, with the intention of picking one of them up. When we arrived, it was soon realized we couldn't walk away with just one. Mom wanted one, and I wanted one of my own. So, after much deliberation as to which of us wanted which puppy, we finally had them in our hands, and were on our way home. Thus, I got my first dog - a little male Yorkie from champion bloodlines, whom I named Miss Melanie's Milo ("Milo"). He was my best friend, and the cutest Yorkie ever! He and I did everything together. I even took him to school a couple times (with permission, of course!) Well, when Milo and Tristan (mom's little guy) were about 6 years old, they somehow escaped from the yard. Tristan was found I think the next day, but it wasn't a happy report. The animal control had had to remove him from the road. Milo was never seen again, and I still don't know what happened to him. I always prayed that a nice family took him in. Well, Milo was my first, but there were many others after him (like the cats, many were temporary, just on their way to new homes).
