When RouXy died at the beginning of February 2017, Frimousse was in great shape – although he was nearly seventeen years old.
He very quickly noticed RouXy’s absence. He didn’t look for him. He kept on the sofas and beds where they used to stay. He was waiting, but he sure knew that RouXy wouldn’t come. He was becoming weaker and wearker. Without his RouXy, was life worth living?