Thanks for that, shaney! He certainly does look like a Yorkie cross, doesn't he? I wish Hamish had lived to 17. He became depressed after the age of 12 when he started with cataracts and eventually went blind. Walking him was a huge effort, guiding him. He then got thyroid trouble and put weight on. Then one of his back legs wouldn't work, so I couldn't walk him at all. On his last day, he was screaming in pain, which turned out to be a slipped disc, poor wee soul. I knew that the vet was going to recommend him being put down, but it was still a shock when he said it. I was with him as he passed, stroking his face. I had him cremated as I couldn't face burying him, as one day I may have to leave this property and I can't bear the idea of leaving him behind. He has his own little box in pride of place on the sideboard.