When he was healthy he was fearless, he would bravely take on the world.
I can't begin to count how many fights I broke up in the early years. And once he finally understood attacking the other dogs was not permitted, he took his wrath out on inanimate objects.
For years he had an ongoing war with brooms of all sizes - whisk brooms, kitchen brooms, shop brooms, if it had a handle and bristles he would fight to the death (or what passes for a Yorkie killing a broom.) He also had a passionate dislike for helium filled balloons and would bark incessantly until we removed it from his sight. What a little character he was.
While he certainly displayed a Yorkie 'tude, he was the best little dog. He loved to curl up on my lap when I read a book and he'd climb on the sofa and press against me while watching TV in the evenings. He'd snuggled up beside me in bed at night and would chase the others away if they came to close. What a sweet, feisty little dog he was.
Gaylin had such an irrepressible spirit, such a love of life, such a wonderful irreverent attitude it's hard to believe tomorrow will come without his ornery little personality announcing he's ready for the day. He was a pint sized bundle of love and I miss him more than I can explain.
I loved that little guy, I will always love him. He made me laugh out loud and he made my heart smile. Every day with Gaylin was a good day. Except for today. Today I lost my buddy. Today I cried. Bye Munchkin, Mom loves you to the moon and back.