Franklin Collins

Michael and I had been married for six years when Tate was born. Before we had our boys, the dogs were our children. We got Emma before we got married and Franklin came a short time after. Remington was Michael's companion when we had to live apart for eight months because of work. When we traveled, they usually went with us. I called them children and our parents sometimes referred to them as their granddogs.

Left to Right: Franklin, Emma Jean, Remington, Tate and me

After Tate was born, they started spending more time outside. By the time Mayer was born, they were almost exclusively outside dogs. We bring them inside every night to feed them; other than that, they are always outside now. It was a hard decision, but it became necessary. It was getting hard to keep up with the extra house cleaning, plus Frankie had started marking in the house again. That was something he hadn't done since we had him neutered. He was wetting the bed. Also the older he got, the less kid-friendly he became. I'm sure there was some underlying resentment too.
Since they have been outside, we have also been neglecting their grooming. Franklin and Remington had started marking each other and who knows what they roll in. We had noticed Franklin was becoming less active, but attributed it to age and the weather extremes we've had during the past year. We know he was still eating. As the alpha male, (yes, our Yorkie is the alpha male) he would eat first and growl if Remington came in the room with him.

Franklin always climbed in the water bowl to get a drink in the summers

Last night, Michael noticed Frankie didn't eat and noticed he was limping slightly. Franklin's hair looked (and smelled) like he had some serious dreadlocks, so Michael decided we should clean him up and get him a new sweater. When Michael carried him back inside, he commented that Franklin was nothing but skin and bones. We didn't know how true that statement was until we started cutting his hair. By the time I gave him a shower, I was in tears. He wasn't acting like himself at all and he was so tiny.

Michael decided to take him to the 24 hour vet to have him checked out. I wrapped Frank up in a blanket, wracked with guilt and knowing it didn't look good. Even though he had four legs and was furry, he was still one of my babies. He was at least 11 yrs old, which is old for a Yorkie; but still, I was not prepared for this day. Thankfully, my brother and sister-in-law came over to sit with me while I waited for news.

Trying to get to a squirrel

When Franklin came to us, he was known as "Franklin with the big balls." He was a free-spirit that was rumored to have fathered at least 1 or 2 liters of puppies by the time he was a year old! The family he lived with lived near a busy highway and he kept escaping to visit his girlfriends. They were afraid he was going to get run over. So he came to live with us and they told their son that he was off chasing rabbits.

Frankie was a papered Yorkie, but we had him fixed because he kept marking in the house. After that, the only time we had trouble with him running was when he went after squirrels, cats or rabbits (hence the reason the little boy that named him believed he was out chasing rabbits for several years). He always came back and usually stayed pretty close. Once he even jumped into the hot tub just to be near us; Frankers could jump!

Last summer, I was panic-stricken when the gate came open in the middle of the night and Franklin didn't come home. Michael called animal control and gave him Frankie's description because we had taken the dogs' collars off so when they came inside to eat they didn't wake up the boys. He said he had seen a dog that looked like him earlier that morning, several blocks from our house, but the dog ran off. Later he called to tell Michael he had found Frank. He was playing in the sprinklers in someone's yard several miles from our house!

Emma and Remington slept by the back gate that night waiting for him to come home. Last night, they stayed by the backdoor waiting for their brother to come back outside with them; but Franklin can now roam without boundaries. He can chase all the squirrel, cats, birds, snakes and rabbits he wants. His spirit is free. We will all miss him.

Good-bye old friend!