Yorkies of Western Michigan & Yorkies of Eastern Tennessee

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  • Sir Moki Da Man
  • The Baron's Edict
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  • Gail
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  • Koko's Komments
  • Reviews
  • FYI Yorkies History
  • More
    • Home
    • Sir Moki Da Man
    • The Baron's Edict
    • Tally Talks
    • The Gazeta Zosia
    • The Whispering Willow
    • The Yorkie Theater
    • Gail
    • Puppies Information
    • Koko's Komments
    • Reviews
    • FYI Yorkies History
  • Home
  • Sir Moki Da Man
  • The Baron's Edict
  • Tally Talks
  • The Gazeta Zosia
  • The Whispering Willow
  • The Yorkie Theater
  • Gail
  • Puppies Information
  • Koko's Komments
  • Reviews
  • FYI Yorkies History

FYI means 'Fun Yorkies Info


The Yorkshire Terrier—affectionately called a "Yorkie"—started out as a scrappy little working dog in the mid-nineteenth century, right in the industrial heart of northern England. Think coal mines, textile mills, and damp Yorkshire streets—not exactly a lap-dog paradise.

Back then, they weren’t bred for show rings. They were ratters—tough, fearless terriers kept by miners and weavers to hunt vermin in cramped spaces. Their ancestors were likely a mix of Scottish terriers—like the Paisley or Clydesdale—and local English types, all crossed for speed, grit, and that silky coat that later became their signature. By the eighteen-sixties, the breed was taking shape: small, under seven pounds, with a long, parted coat that needed brushing daily just to keep it from tangling in machinery.

The name "Yorkshire Terrier" stuck after a big win at a Leeds show in eighteen-sixty-one—Ben, a little blue-and-tan dog owned by a weaver named Mary Ann Foster, stole the spotlight. People started breeding them smaller, prettier, less... ratty. By the eighteen-eighties, they’d gone from factory floors to parlours—Queen Victoria herself got one, and suddenly every lady wanted a pocket-sized status symbol.

They crossed the Atlantic fast—first registered in the U.S. in eighteen-eighty-five—and today? Well, they’re still feisty, still love a good bark, but now they’re mostly couch royalty. Funny how a rat-catcher ends up wearing bows and sleeping on silk pillows, isn’t it?

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