Bright-eyed, loving, playfully exuberant, and utterly adorable, our 18 month-old little girl, Babe, exhibits the
qualities of most Yorkies. And yet, there is something extra special about her. She will sit in your lap and look
deep into your eyes as though searching for your very soul. She seems to know when you are not well or
feeling dispirited. On these occasions she will not leave your side, following you from room to room waiting
for acknowledgment that you are feeling better. Her beautiful almond-shaped eyes never leave your face,
waiting for that smile that tells her all is well again. A smile elicits an immediate reaction. The tail shoots straight
up and wags profusely, there is a delighted yelp accompanied by a display of on-the-spot bouncing gymnastics.
This is followed by a break-neck race around the house, skidding around corners, across the couch cushions,
gazelle-leaping over the carpet, hurtling along the ceramic tiles, pulling up just short of the front door. An
aerial pirouette, a blur of little legs scampering back along the hallway to throw her little body at your feet,
looking up hoping that the smile had escalated into hearty laughter� which it usually does.

 

For ages I believed this performance and closeness of spirit was just for my benefit, but then, something happened
to change my opinion. A tragedy in their family brought my nephew and his two teen-age children to our home.
All were in a fragile state and in great need of comfort and understanding, particularly young Joshua. Normally a
bright, outgoing fourteen year-old, Joshua had become withdrawn and sullen and his interaction with the family was
miniscule. He was grieving deeply for the loss of his mother  but could not find the words to express the sadness in his
heart. Every day Babe would sit at his feet making overtures to him, but to no avail. He completely ignored her, in fact
he pushed her away in annoyance.

 

A comfy 'papa-sun' chair allows  extreme relaxation for our visitors as they stretch out in the solarium of our cliff-top
home. From there, they can scan across a panorama of long sandy beaches, a lake and distant mountains. The sound
of  waves crashing on the rock platform below and the sight of sea gulls silently circling above or riding the updrafts is
enough to mesmerize and calm the most anxious of 'papa-sun' recliners. Here Joshua had curled up hoping to be left alone.
The family respected his need for solitude� but not Babe. She leapt up onto the chair and sat herself firmly on his chest
gazing intently into his eyes. He did not reject her, but stared back. She flattened herself onto his chest and inched her
way to his chin on which she planted a gentle lick.

 

"Quit it," he said, pushing her away.

 

Babe settled back onto his chest again encouraged by the fact that she had not been ordered off the chair. Suddenly she
jumped down to return seconds later with her small squeaky ball which she deposited on his chest. He threw it away and
closed his eyes. Within seconds she returned with the ball choosing not to jump onto the chair. Instead, she sat in a begging
position, ball in mouth making muffled barks. Joshua peeped over the edge of the chair and gave her a watery smile. This was
what Babe had been waiting for. With delighted yelps she sped off at her hair-raising pace on a breakneck circuit of the house
finishing in front of him with her amazing gymnastic on-the-spot bouncing.

 

That did it! Joshua actually laughed out loud and threw the ball for her. For the next few days boy and dog were inseparable. Slowly he began to talk to the family about things that concerned and frightened him, particularly not having a mum to be
there every day for them. There were tears, a display of anger that such a thing could happen, much hugging and
reassurance and finally, acceptance. Babe sought out each member, seeming to read their need and providing her own brand
of loving attention.

 

After the family left to return to their own home, I realized Babe had given me very little attention in the days they had
spent with us. Our little Yorkie had devoted most of her time trying to cheer everyone up and was not satisfied until
she saw a smile or heard laughter. I sometimes wonder when I look into those beautiful brown eyes and she gazes
back into mine, what thoughts or perceptions rationalize in her tiny brain. Is it possible that her mission in life is simply
to make people happy? If it is, then believe me she is very VERY successful.