I have a cat and it has been ripped out in autumn. She has such a habit of pressing from the fork in the kitchen to the balcony.
I come home at about twelve o’clock at night and the cats are not at home. I went to the street to examine the area of her approximate fall from the fifth floor. There were no lights in the courtyard, I lighted my cell. I found a cat's tube, dug a hole, buried it. And in the morning Risa comes home, all in the ground and leaves.