I don't remember it all clearly, but I think I got stepped on. My body basically exploded. Missing springs, etc. My owner mourned me, but by that time, it was lights out for me. Or so I thought. My owner told me that somebody could fix me, and agreed. I arrived back home with some hot glue patches, and a full body. Although I may now be paralyzed a little, it's better than being dead. My owner repeated to never bring me back there again. And now? Well, I sit a shelf where i'm visible. It may not look like he cares about me, but he truly does. And that's my story.
