I have had pekes for years. The first was a white male whom I named Jon Pol. He lived to be 21 years old. One of his offsprings a rather large white boy, I called Winston Churchill (Binkie for short). I cried like a baby when I lost him. He was so totally like a child. Unconditional love. Six months later my husband called and said someone had set out a peke in the rain where he worked and wanted to know if we could take her in. Said he'd understand if I said no. Of course, I didn't. Precious turned out to be independent as a hog on ice, funny, sweet and loving. John also sired a pekapoo whom we raised (despite my misgivings) name Warf. We lost Precious and Warf during the same winter. Three years ago my husband got me a little boy named Babydoll. He is a light sable/grey. We then found a lovely little lady named Tinkerbell and had her flown in from Missouri to keep him company. She was solid black and full of herself and life. We didn't intend to have pups so soon, but Babydoll had other ideas apparently. Tinkerbelle had 4 pups, a set of white twins (a boy and a girl), a little red girl, and a sable boy. I gave the sable boy to my friend, but couldn't bear to part with any of the others. Everyone who asked just didn't seem right for them. I later had to give Tinkerbelle to my friend as well because she tried to kill the white girl, and my vet said that even if I gave away Pearl, Tinkerbelle would just turn on Mandy. We also have my granddaughter's pommie. When she moved out, she couldn't take him with her. My babies are rowdie and loving, and a wonderful part of our family.