Brewster was a rescue-hamster.We got him a playball, which he seemed to love. But one day, my retarded flatmate didn't shut the stairgate and down went Brewster. When I got in from work, there he was, in one of the surviving halves of the playball, covered in vomit. We gave him some brandy, but he died an hour later.
I loved him.
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Sun 27 Apr 2003, 15:51,
archived)
I loved him.