The story, as Medvedev whispered, about the cat.

We lived in the north (young professionals). In the barracks, on the first floor, heating, hot water, bath, etc. Everything is available.
The New Year. The time is 23:00, the table is broken, 86 years, on the large ground (so called) in the shops with a ball of paths, and we have a downfall.
New Year is coming and there is nothing to do. Decided to walk. Out of the window -45, get excited. We walk, especially nowhere, everywhere snow above the knee, we walk around, and around.
Let’s look at our room from the street.
to go.
We have a cat, a Siamese, the name is Kesha.
We approach the window, on the table (the festive) sits this bastard, and eats. We were in shock, we cooked it for ourselves for the party, and he, the cattle. Well, let us yell, (glasses double) – the creature came out, and other kind words. A table next to the window. He, hearing our “cry” stopped, raised his mouth, looked at us (out of the window), and continued to “eat”. His glimpse of bright blue eyes expressed a great doubt that we (small people behind the window) could prevent him from celebrating the New Year. He saw us exactly. Well, shit, with cries, we rushed to rescue the harch, and beat that dull, blue-eyed face. We open the door, on the table bite delicacies, and the cat himself sits in the hallway, with such an expression of the face as Medvedev at a government meeting, type, and I, I am nothing.
The feast, they did not beat, began to walk.