A woman goes to our clinic every spring and summer. Every time she brings cats, all new and new. The cat treats, distributes and comes back next year. For a year exactly 1 time, but a package of 5-7 babies, sometimes even of different ages.
But no, she is not one of those in whom the cat experiences the "pleasure" of motherhood every year. And not from those who go specifically pick up cats. And not those who have a lot of rough tails in the apartment. She just got a cat. And his name is so... speaking – Masai.

At first, the cat brought his cats home. I walked somewhere and brought it. As spring comes to an end, so it begins. Always wear black, like him, as if others hadn’t done it. Per the strangers stole, so that only the blacks would be, who will find out there. When he brought all (one a day, say, the hostess was, exactly, and plus-minus one - who will notice) and made a break for a few days, the kittens gathered in a large box and went to the clinic. To treat – to vaccinate – to distribute. If the cat is interrupted, it means that everyone he wanted has already pulled.

The hostess was tired. One day on a rainy autumn day, Mazai came for castration. Everyone was happy in spring. Until the end of May. At the end of May, a poor woman rushed to the clinic and put a box with cats on the table, tired of saying, “You imagine, this caterpillar of foreign cats is now dragging! Now they are different!”
Healed and distributed. One, white, the woman left for herself. She named Gerasim, castrated and the next spring the cats went to the country together. People could not take Mazai with them, as they went forever, until the winter, but hoped that Gerasim would cool his dust.

Here is the end of spring. Every morning the housewife looks out the window anxiously to see if there is a cat on the doorstep. There were no cats. In the summer too. The cats played peacefully in the courtyard, occupied exclusively with each other.
In September, the woman came to me in tears, while hysterically chicky. Her husband is behind her, in his arms.
“You can imagine, I’m looking out the window, and these two fools under the fence are pulling something into the area, and even so! They are breaking! And friendlyly weave to the door something dirty in the ground, both of us. And it disappears. I jump out on the doorstep, chase the fools, and there is a puppy! Twice as many as both of them together! Here...” and they stretch me a hairy baby, a month and a half from the family.

The child is grown. In his 10-11 months he already weighs 40 kg. And Mazai and Gerasim were in shock at being dragged home, while they sat quietly like mice and did not leave the site.
Waiting for the end of summer and autumn.