I miss my buddy. He's going to Pennsylvania for two years, and that means two years that he won't be playing with me, pouncing next to me, pretending to be a puppy. I haven't even felt like writing the last few days.
Why do life things have to be so hard? Why do my playmates keep leaving? First Buford -- the best dog friend a little guy could have -- and my puppy buddy.
Maybe I'll write tomorrow. Today I just feel like snuggling up to somebody who is still here and reassuring myself that they're not leaving, too.
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awww. Gus, I can sympathize
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