When I was a kid, we had a pomeranian named Valentina, although we always called her Tina. She was a sweet, lovable dog with more health problems than any pet I've ever encountered. The photo above probably represents the best she ever looked.
I don't know where she came from, but in retrospect I'd guess that a puppy mill and severe inbreeding were involved. She was allergic to fleas, so every summer most of her fur would fall out. Something was wrong with her gums and she lost all her teeth at an early age. Finally, she was prone to huge, non-malignant tumors which had to be removed every few years. In short, the poor girl was a mess.
Still, we loved her and she lived a surprisingly long time considering her ailments.
Late in Tina's life, we went on vacation and left the animals in the care of a woman who boarded her horse in our barn. When we got back, we found the most extraordinary note, "Tina had a puppy, but it died."
My parents had never had Tina spayed because the vet assured them it was unnecessary due to all of her health issues. Yet somehow she had managed to get pregnant well past her first decade of life. It was the equivalent of the nursing home calling to say that great-grandma had had a baby.
Tina lived for several more years after that, and my sister has continued the family tradition with two pomeranians: first one called Chigger and now one named Sooner. Neither of them had the unfortunate health problems of their predecessor.