Half of

We live in an apartment on the first floor. We are four – my husband, my five-year-old daughter and grandmother. Our grandmother is 80 years old, and for the winter we take her out of the village, and in the summer she definitely returns to her house, not wanting to sit in the city. The garden still plants and goes fishing.

With my grandmother to us always moves the cat Bubble - a white-red bandit in the village, but very affectionate in the apartment. His grandfather called it a bubble when he was still alive, after the cat struck his bubble with valerian and tried to open it for three hours. Grandfather could not withstand these torments, opened the bowl and dropped a little on the penny. The cat sat there and slept for four days, not even eating.

Then there was a thunderstorm, and the rain wiped away the remnants of the smell. The cat was still approaching for a long time, smelling the foam and breathing loudly. Grandfather he loved very much, and he called him kindly Puzik. When his grandfather died, the cat went to the cemetery every day for 40 days. Then it stopped at all! Such a mystic.

And recently, the love of the cat for the valerian turned into communication with law enforcement forces for the family.

That evening, my grandmother got something upset after watching her favorite series and decided to drink valerian. But accidentally the bubble fell and a little liquid poured out on the floor. There was a characteristic smell in the apartment.

The bubble, feeling a favorite smell, issued a wild cry and rushed to lick the floor and roll in the medicine. My husband didn’t come up with anything better than opening the balcony to ventilate, and I ran to the bathroom for a cloth to wipe out.

The grandmother was seated in a chair, and Puzik with uterine rattling turned out on the floor. By these sounds the surrounding cats understood – here they are poured!!! And rushed to us through the open balcony - the first floor!

They also made strange sounds. The bubble began to defend its territory, a big cat fight began. The husband ran to close the balcony so that new animals did not find, on the road several times was scratched and bitten. The grandmother was attacked by a hysterical laugh, and the daughter hid in the bathroom and ate from there.

There were more than a dozen cats in the apartment. What was to do with them? They did not give up and fought with each other. Neighbors were frightened by the wild noise, knocked on the door, but we were not before them. Then they decided that there was some kind of murder and called the police.

The police who arrived were shocked by the deceased — the husband scratched, all in blood, a bunch of cats and a whispering grandmother in a chair. They did not know what to do and called an animal rescue service.

Two uncles arrived, quickly caught the cats with large baggage sacks and sent them to the balcony through the fork, where another 5-6. We had to pay for the “release of the apartment.” Our cat was thrown out!

I had to run to look for him. Fortunately, he was already well - he was lying on the bench, not going to run. Under the balcony, people gathered and had fun.

Then my grandmother and I treated my husband, calmed the child, cleaned up in the apartment. The bubble slept happily on the window. We did not risk opening the windows and the balcony for a couple of weeks - cats were constantly pushing around...