Don’t get me wrong—some of my best friends are Yorkies, but I never really thought of them as real dogs. You know what I mean. A dog rides in the back of your pickup truck, tongue hanging out as they sniff the air. You throw a stick for them and they bound after it. They wrestle and play and bark with a deep “woof!” They can keep up with you while you ride your bicycle. They warn you of approaching danger, and it’s even possible they can do something about it on the rare occasion when there is some actual danger approaching. They look at you happily, or with soulful eyes that break your heart and say, “When are you going to give me some of what you are eating?”

Whereas Yorkies are tiny little creatures that bark in a high register and have bright little eyes. They don’t bound anywhere, they kind of skitter along the floor, and their owners treat them more like infants than dogs. When I am around Yorkies I am afraid I am going to step on them. A Yorkie would be lost in the back of a pickup truck.

However, on the Paris leg of our honeymoon I discovered that Amy Tan and Lou DeMattei’s Yorkie Bombo (or Bombeaux, since we were in Paris) was indeed a dog. We were all staying in the apartment of David Sedaris and Hugh Hamrick (they weren’t there): Amy, Lou, Kathi, Keaton G. Barry, Bombo, Lily (the other Yorkie), and I. There was this squeeze toy shaped like a bottle of champagne that said “Dog Perignon,” on the label and I found myself throwing it across the room for Bombo, or trying to fool him with the old-fake-throw-hide-behind-the-back trick. Soon I was scratching his ears and back. I was happy to hear Bombo scurry in to my room to say hello, happy to see him when we returned from our Parisian adventures. I was glad to see Lily, too, but Lily is very old and frail. She tended to walk a little sideways and always seemed to be a little confused. Kind of like me.

So what I am saying is, I had a revelation. Yorkies are dogs too. Who knew?