#разговорыокотиках Около пяти процентов рациона кота Мафусаила составляет...

#cats
About five percent of the diet of the cat Methuselah is all prohibited. I will explain. Despite the fact that he, as a typical representative of an elite breed, the Leningrad suburban is different:
- the intellect of Stephen Hawking,
- the beauty of Keanu Reeves,
- the charm of Stephen Fry,
Methuselah cat - thieves and begging. And this, by the way, is also a pedigree feature. You open a jar of corn in your salad, lean over the lid, straighten up - and half of the cat sticks out of the jar and a third of your dinner is already eaten up. You sit, eat chicken broth, tasty and nutritious - and next to you they are already spinning, trying to screw between you and a spoon. I delicately keep silent about cheese sandwiches, because, in my opinion, the tax in favor of the cat was imperceptibly self-imposed on the cheese in this house.
The remaining 95% coming from Comrade Me’s delicate digestive tract is Canada’s expensive holistic class food. Remember, Canadian, this is important. We just started giving it, and the cat M. got into the habit of draining young energy according to the principle “I’ve shook your house.” Well, that is, naturally reeling. We were still laughing - staggering and staggering. And then we read a pack where in French it was written “pour les chatons”, that is, “for kittens”. And everything fell into place.
Since then, the cat Methuselah has the official title of a bezel, and its actions are characterized by the verb “bezaton”, which means rushing indiscriminately, stomping loudly, ruining everything that you crash into and bite people if they climb. Here are such neologisms.
And the story will be about how the cat Methuselah reached the bottom.
Imagine a dark, cool Petersburg night. The cat Methuselah was a particularly powerful king, so he was delicately escorted from the bedroom. About two nights. Yasha is deeply asleep, exhausted at work. I swim into a heavy slumber from sticky thoughts. “Again I forgot to unsubscribe at work, tomorrow I have to do it — windows aren’t washed like a year — where to get the money to buy everything by autumn - finally cook porridge for breakfast, otherwise we live on sandwiches - again something pulls your stomach - Lord, go to buy a plate for yourself. ” From the kitchen comes a loud thundering and swarming, when suddenly everything calms down.
And then I hear a scream, hacking and panic. As if a wounded animal is screaming. It was as if the forces were no longer loud, and he, with all his strength, from horror, from mortal fear ... ran out into the corridor. And I see. Like my cat Drags the hind legs. Do you understand? Creeps along the corridor and drags its hind legs. And cries in a broken voice.
Quickly call Yasha. Rush to the light switches. Rush to the mobile, call the veterinarian, she’s smart, she’ll come. Spinal cat, mummies, for what it is to him, for what it is to me. A tub of cold water - yashin voice: "No veterinarian is needed."
As it turned out, this alternatively gifted (I'm not talking about my husband) steal a ball of beige iris, drove it through the kitchen, accidentally hobbled and screamed to be unraveled. In the process of cutting the threads, Yasha grabbed almost to the bone. He yelled, as if they were cutting not threads, but him. Iris beige-beige cat-myopic, I do not see in the dark, so I did not make out. She said nothing, but thought a lot of things about the orientation of methuselah, about the distorted inclinations of his daddy and about the low social responsibility of his mother.
Yasha gave betadine - I realized that I can’t get a cotton swab into the neck of the bottle - my hands go with a large amplitude. She sat in the dark - read a book of hours until four, could not sleep. And the men touched each other touchingly and sniffed like two angels. Insensitive.