When I had an office in Dzerzhince, I went to work and back every day by the supermarket. Well, such, you know, like a shopping center, on the first floor a gastronomy, on the second pavilions are all sorts of. And under the stairs to the second floor there was a small kiosk, food for animals. Nothing is remarkable except one. There, near the window, there was a shoe box, on which it was written from the hand - "For lunch Vasily." Or “you eat” in a different way. The boxes because they winded and changed, the inscription changed. Only the owner of the box has not changed. He was sitting right down.

It was such a big black cat. He sat under his box all day. Not just sitting, not. Vasya had his front right leg clogged, from nail to elbow, and when someone went past to the second floor, he pulled that leg out before him, bowed his head to the side, and complainingly looked into the eyes of the passing person. His appearance has changed dramatically! As an experienced recessive in court. From such a dark coward he instantly turned into such a miserable puppy.

Should we say that under such arrangements Vasin's revenue per day significantly exceeded the turnover of the kiosk itself? I once looked into the box for curiosity. There were no small things there. Watson was generous.

At first, looking at Vasey, I thought it was a kiosk seller’s cat. It turned out not. The kiosk closed, the seller went his way, and Vasya his way. Probably it was just a courtyard cat. All free from work time, while the shopping center was closed, he dressed around the surroundings. However, every day, at half nine in the morning, he sat at the door of the store and waited for the opening. And the bandage on his leg shone white.

I watched this wrath almost every day for two years. Of course, his leg was absolutely healthy, and in a time free from heart-hearted eyes he used it like all his other relatives. Except for one characteristic. Wherever Vasya was, whatever he was doing, whether he was forging in the washing machine, whether he was beating the muzzle, but he had to notice a human look on himself, as he immediately dropped everything, sat down, pulled out before him the twisted leg, looked into the eyes of the passers, and his appearance became miserable and unhealthy.

But! Once you passed by and put nothing in a box, you became an empty place for him. When he saw you, he no longer pulled his foot and did not make a miserable look. He just did not notice you. He remembered everyone. I have never met any other living creature in my life who could show you so clearly that you do not exist. It is an unpleasant feeling, you know. When you are, and you are not.

Well here. And then the premises on the second floor were bought by the bank, and the trade was removed from there. A kiosk with food for animals moved for two quarters to the center. Vasa is missing. Not immediately gone, no. For some time, every day, from half nine, he was stably sitting at the door. Waiting for the discovery. But the door did not open. Of course, you were fed by the vendors from the gastronomist. But he absolutely did not want to go there.

He did not want to move to a new place. The shopkeeper complained.
I took it three times! I put the box! It is not infectious! At least tie it!
Of course she was sad. Such a piece of daily revenue went past the box.

Then Vasya completely disappeared, and I forgot about him.
Until somewhere later, probably a year ago, I did not accidentally go to the gasoline station in Old Yaroslavl.
On an empty tank, right under the box window, was a large black cat sitting. With a folded lap. The right front.

and waaaaa! I gladly said. That’s where you are, channel. Arranged for work?

Vasya demonstrated my complete absence in his surrounding space.

and Aaaah! You remember me, shit cat! I laughed at Vasena’s ill-remembrance, but I wasn’t upset at all.

Having received a payment at the box, he separated a fifty-ruble note, put it under his nose, and said:

Here is! See also!
demonstrably placed in the plastic box standing near the box box with a solid inscription - "For the cat"

Vasa and the ear did not lead.

Okay well! I said, I turned and went my way.

by Mrjajaja! Suddenly came from behind.

I turned surprised.

Vasya was sitting, stretching his cluttered leg to me, and his face was so miserable and unhappy that he could even cry.

* * * *
P.S
After I posted this story in jaze, this comment came.

“Hello to you! I accidentally read your story and decided to write about you.
You know, I worked as a cashier at the AZS, about which you write. I am in a decree now.
Vasya died about a year ago, we were all so worried. We used to him, he lived with us on the gas station, everyone loved him, and the employees, and drivers, who are constantly driving at us.
And of the money he "earned," we did not take a penny, no matter who thought of it. We bought cat food for them, and gave it to a woman who feeds wandering cats and dogs nearby. We didn’t give her money, we bought food. “He earned a lot. So Vasya fed not only himself, but also many of his fellow men.
The earth is puffy. Thank you for your story.”

Such things.