When I took my cat to the country for the first time, she fainted of happiness. She was wearing on the beds, climbing under the villas, and when she was screaming - collect clothes, we go home, blasted into the fence and hid in the neighboring area.

And of course I stayed overnight.

The next day after work, I went to get her. I only shuddered with the keys of the carpet, as she flew out unknown from where, grabbed in my leg, fixed on her deadly, pressed her mouth and clogged her eyes.

Since then, I’ve never seen anything like “Master, I don’t hear you.” Once we go home, it means home.