My dear old late Mam had a Yorkie when I was a kid: Tiny Tina of Saltburn. (The dogs name, not my Mam.) Dad, who was a big man, kept accidentally treading on it. Accidentally, he always claimed. And hated taking it for walks. 17 stone rugby playing Yorkshireman with a tiny dog. On a pink lead.... Only after dark.
He was much happier when we got a GSD later in life. As was I. One extreme an'al' dat. My Mam also kept Schipperkes, if there is a meaner tempered small black dog.... She loved them, nobody else did.
It will be all right in the end. If it isn't all right yet, then it is not yet the end..