My older cat, when I was alive, came to me when I ate breakfast and checked what I was eating. And if it was a eyelid (defined by the smell), he spoke such a short and decisive word me, indicating that their Majesty wanted to pull out my plate, and therefore I must leave on it a sufficient amount of yellow (protein I was allowed to eat the fullest). After that, I was obliged to bring the plate under a special inclination to His Majesty's mouth so that he could comfortably pull out the plate without the risk of swallowing his furry collar. The only thing that their Majesty never allowed herself to do was go down to eat at the table. He ate politely sitting in the master's chair - so seeing their majesty entering the kitchen during breakfast, the master had to honor him by rising up and immediately releasing the throne.

If my food did not interest their majesty, he quietly departed from the kitchen, not jumping into the throne freed for him by chance. His departure meant that we were allowed to continue our breakfast. The cat came out of the kitchen majestically, and it seemed to me that he even cried out to us, his faithful servants, with the inexpressible dignity written on his mouth.