One minute, he was fine. Hopping around, chasing me around my apartment. Then, it was bed time. An hour and a half later, my boyfriend yells to me that something is wrong. My baby. My sweet loveable bugsy died. I don't know why.
I still have Groucho. How can I ensure he doesn't die of a broken heart when I so wish I could myself?
I'm not going to be online much. Facebook messages go to my phone. User name is Brandy Lee. I think it is still under my old email: firstname.lastname@example.org