was recently at the exhibition. There is a small young man in a cage. Behind it sits her master, such a small and unthinkable man. On the cage a colorful bench with a photo of the cat, breed, name, age, pet - all honor to honor.
On the side of the cage, a white white paper of wind control was placed. A woman approaches, begins to carefully read a paper of wind control, trying to disassemble the doctor's carcass: "Shaya...shalom. berry...beria...ze..." And joyfully screams somewhere to the side "Ira, Ir go here, see what a cat here is a breed of shalomberidze!"

The owner of the abicca arises, and with such a roaring baritone, he says very kindly: "Shalamberidze is me! And this (referring to the stand with the photo and data of the little girl) is ABISCIN!"