I have no right to not trust the person who told me this, because before that he was not caught by doctors. And the situation is quite plausible. So that...

*** by
For a long time, when I was about like you, only younger, I worked in Moscow as the deputy of a very big boss in a very big ministry. But although the position was called “the deputy chief”, I was actually his personal guardian. Specifically his family.

I can’t say anything bad, and I lived well and slept sweetly. Mary is
Petrovna, the wife of Evon, was generally a woman of high education and sophisticated taste. And how she dressed, how she dressed... Coco Chanel herself
The little black dress would chew off jealousy. And why was it not to dress beautifully if this ministry had direct contacts with abroad? At the time when the Baltic Union was
“Foreign,” that is to say, about the rotten West.

I’m not from her that I didn’t hear the mother’s word or say some disgusting anecdote, but the voice she never raised.

But Ivan Afanasievich was a cool man. Almost unlikely, so mat in five floors and promise to do something unnecessary with the opponent. But I have a sin to complain, he spoke to me very rarely. Whether it was because I did my job well, or if my wife, Maria Petrovna, extinguished his anger, I do not know. But I didn’t get it frequently. Especially because I spent half of my time in shopping trips, where I was carried something wrapped in paper that smelled like a servette, or a cold smoke osethrine.

Yes, the times were like that. Everything under the floor, under the shelves. They also sometimes bailed me, especially on a holiday, or, for example, when they went hunting in Zavidovo, shooting, burning shale, drinking water. The tables there were covered even with the current not read. They ate very little. Where is the rest? And the cut is untouched, and the bubble smells in the plates. Not to throw away? I was allowed what was needed to take home. Oh, I recently tried the barley grapefruit... Not that, not what then... Then it was more delicious and eaten... More joyful, what...

Overall, the family was good. They loved each other very much, but there was only one blackness on their happiness. There were no children. I did not ask questions, and they did not tell me. Did not God give them children, or was it a child, and something happened. I will not lie, I don’t know. And when the husbands at fifty have no children, they poured all their love on their cat.

Here the storyteller settled in one point, slipped on the floor and added – and this cattle was used.

The name was very original for cats – Barsik. At that time, all the cats were called Barsiki or Murziki, the children were called Ivan and Sveti, the cars were Moskovichi and Zyguli.

Barcy was a monster, both externally and in character. broke him out. The size of it was, not to lie, the Horizon TV. You don’t think and don’t remember that. How it will go to the top to warm up, how it will lie down there hanging the legs on the screen, and the TV is not visible. Almost the whole cat was in his arms. However, at one point something closed in him and evil electricity struck Barsik’s eggs, which did not contribute to his character improvement at all. At first he cried, then for a week he looked at his eggs almost inextricably, recounted and carefully touched his leg. And then something snacked in his brain and the cat came to the conclusion that it was all the owner's fault. I started packing.

That expensive wallpaper will be worn, then in the aquarium the night will be saturated. As for the aquarium.
I am not an ichthyologist, but the fish there were swimming, brought from the distant Amazon, beautiful such. Mary Petrovna told me about them that they were predators whose light he had not seen. Talking and looking at them is scary.

Well, what can the predatory fish counter the killing-toxic stream of a cat, stuck in an uncomfortable position on the edge of the aquarium? For a long time, the owners could not understand why the precious and exotic fish died one after the other, until one night, Maria Petrovna in warm, soft boots, with a silent act did not leave the bedroom in order to visit the toilet, and did not see Barsik, who with a smiling smile on the hairy face had already settled on the edge of the aquarium and stumbled into another victim.

And Barcy! There was no limit to the just indignation of Maria Petrovna. – is
and Barcy! How you can! How are you not ashamed!

Barcy was not ashamed at all, but it was very unexpected. No, I did not expect an evil animal unnecessary witnesses. And so great was his surprise that, not ceasing to suck, he was sitting, so with his back forward and fell into the pond.

Well - thought the fish - here is the celebration fell on our street. In general, when Ivan Afanasievich, who ran to his wife's scream, caught a cat running in the aquarium, there were several satisfied fish hanging on it (on the cat, of course). As I know now, it was probably a piranha. Or maybe other dogs, I don’t know.

Despite the fact that the cat was rescued by the owners, discussed with a mocked towel, crushed and fed, he hid an inhumane anger and wrote in his black notebook another bad act of the owners, because in all the bad he somehow blamed only them.

In the aquarium, he stopped, of course, because he had a good memory and was able to draw conclusions. And even before wearing his shoes, he looked long and carefully inside them to make sure there was no danger.

And Maria Petrovna and Ivan Afanasievich still did not expect the soul in their
“Beautiful cat” and didn’t even guess about black thoughts, which, like bobras, tore the already atrophic brain of the animal.

Due to the specifics of the breed and its body structure, the catfee could only avenge in two ways, the first is to squeeze somewhere, the second is to scratch something into a clot. It must be said that the first method was his favorite, and the second he used only due to the technical impossibility of applying the first.

What is worth trying to resemble the painting hanging on the wall in a massive, oak frame. Despite all the equilibrarian exercises, the cat could not fix itself there in a posture convenient for revenge, and the falling picture, hitting the corner of the frame in the cat's mole, deliberately spelled the remnants of his brain.

He then scratched the painting with his nails and scattered it around the room. In general, if it had not been the wickedness of this animal, it would have been regrettable.
The chronic foolishness that pursued this cat in the process of implementing plans for revenge sometimes caused complaints.

... And the attempt to suck in a new, then still very rare, electric, rapidly boiling boiler? While Barsik adjusted to it, noting the convenience of the field, the tea cooker boiled. The hot steam gently wrapped the cat’s eggs... Barsik couldn’t bite for two days, so he shook when he was moaning from pain. And a week later, I walked somehow on the sinusoid seawalk, widely placing the back legs.

And after this avenging citizen, during his vacation, I was asked to see Ivan Afanasievich. Well, as he asked... Called, ordered, gave c/u, money for food and the strictest order – if at least worsina from Barsik...
If at least a sting on his face gets angry... If at least a sting gets dull... Better bury yourself, for Maria Petrovna will be upset, and for her I will yourself, eggs on the tea. I understood?

I didn't want eggs for the tea, so I said that I understood and went for a supply for a busted shortcut.

In the morning, giving me the keys to the apartment and another thousand orders, that loves to eat the cat, where loves to sleep the cat, where loves to play the cat,... The cat... The cat... The cat...., they went south, and I went up into the apartment to talk to the cat.

The cat knew me for a long time, I even sometimes gave him some delicious, but this did not prevent him from occasionally whiping me in my shoes and stealing ropes.
Where he hid them then is still a mystery to me. Maybe he ate, and then grabbed the nail thoughtfully, as he can, without rushing to pull out? It will happen to him.

After the owner's departure, the cat finally left its cat coils.
Periodically, he spoke nonsense something non-memberly so that it seemed that someone was torturing a Vietnamese guerrilla. Sometimes trying to look like a shoe, he adjusted from above, took a suitable posture and... thought. Then confusedly looking at the baton for a long time remembered, and actually, what is he doing here?

In general, the craving for the hosts was very ambiguous, which is not surprising for his atrophic brain. He did not eat worse. All of them also scornfully wrapped a fresh straw in a bowl, looked contemptuously at the cut and, with the expression of a huge favor on the naked face, drank delicacies.

The worst started in two days. Barry had a wool. Not in the sense of starting to grow, but quite the opposite. What was on him left him organized and large-scale. I don't know if this or something else, but the character of the animal became quite unbearable, and in addition to everything else, the taste preferences of this cat changed, which I was unspeakably pleased with.
Because I had eaten the straw and the cut now, and I had fed the pagan with sausage. Although for the sake of revelation, it must be said that he might have continued to avoid delicacies, but I also wanted to.

And here on one not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-not-believed day, Barsik greedy chewed another portion of sausage, naturally before this, not forgetting to suck me in my shoes, as if he was roasting, coughing. He moved the copper. Precisely removed the nails. I extended my legs.

My eggs over the boiling cup of tea blinked quite realistically in front of my eyes. What to do? The best thing I could think of in panic was to load a dead cat into the freezer to show the owners when they arrived as proof that he hadn’t fled anywhere and I didn’t kill him, but that he died from an unrestricted cat’s longing for dear owners. And I rushed for three days to the country, slightly silencing the pain of loss with vodka.

The next morning, Maria Petrovna and Ivan Afanasievich returned a few days earlier than planned.

What can I say. The refrigerator was opened by Maria Petrovna. Having seen Barsikov's roar smiling ill-lovedly with an inheritance on her thighs and touching a finger of the already hard, orderly frozen imported freezer cat she reacted quite adequately. Emergency, ambulance and injections

I arrived three days later, read the dismissal order and went north. You know, I do not regret it.