Months before my boyfriend died of a heart attack, we were in a pretty desperate situation because of his health. We were living in his car, living off salvation army donations and due to my own serious health issues things were not looking very rosy. Seeing how despondent i was and suffering from grand mal seizures which are a truly, bizarrely terrifying ordeal ; one day he walked into a pet shop and saw a litter of $2000 pedigree mini-dacshunds the size of mangoes inside a pet enclosure. Out of the 6 tiny flesh balls only one had the temerity to pounce up to the glass and yap viciously at him. He was full of such vitality and spunk that my late love knew I would instantly adore him. So he slipped his hand inside the cold enclosure, shoved the furball down his undies, had a quick chat to the pet store keeper(all the while misdirecting her from his animated underwear), said a sweet goodbye and quickly left the shop before the mango in his pants gave the game away. We named him Charli (in honor of our recently sold harley) and as soon as our eyes met, he deftly and joyously leapt into my Valentino handbag (an existing remnant of my single modelling days),as if he was leaping back into his mother's womb. Suffice to say that even after my beloved passed suddenly away, Charli went nowhere. He lived in my handbag, smuggled in and out of "no-pet" apartments for the next 5 years and has still never left my side, no matter what horrors life has dealt me. I Love you Charli - if it wasn't for your unconditional love, the bulemia, anxiety, depression and alcoholism would have taken me by now. Instead,
after 7 times being clinically dead, my angel has always been there for my return.
