I sit behind the compass. next to me in the direction of the kitchen steals the favorite, quietly singing under my nose "meat, meat, meat, my favorite meat". Interested to see what happens next. I go out into the kitchen and observe the following picture: in one hand of the catlet, wrapped in a piece of doctor's sausage, and in the other piece of raw sausage, the size of which the catlet would be jealous. And all this is absorbed by my favorite in order of order: cottage, sausage, sausage, sausage... here her gaze rises to me and with the phrase “fired!” I need to get rid of her from the scene of the crime" she bites me by the side and plunges into the room. And I’m standing up and thinking, what if the sausage would bring it back?! to