I was 13-14 years old and one happy day my parents left me alone at home. The year was 98-99 (even before all these of your entornets) and the prospect of watching REN-TV at night, I was quite seductive. I lived, by the way, in a private house with a small plot and we had a dog of the Doberman breed, which was considered in the family a model of security qualities.

At about 12 a.m., the dog stumbled, began to knock on the door, apparently demanding to go out with her. When I opened the door and went out to the doorstep, I heard the compressed tones that were being delivered from the corner of the site. It was dark, though the eye was scattered, in addition there were trees and bushes, so that the source of sound I could only determine by the method of sound localization. Going to check the stones in the dark seemed to me a bad idea, and the stones were scary, I thought then they were mortal, maybe the addict is dying or something like that. “Fuck the question! I have a superdog! At first I decided, but the dog did not react to all the commands, only looked closely at the sound and rattled. I stood in full shyness, because I used to drive Doberman to training and she listened to me unconditionally. Suddenly, the dog with the appearance of “let it be done” turned and fell into the open door.

For a couple of minutes I listened to these stones, standing on the doorstep in tapes, they were not monotonous, they were somewhat afterlife, and repeated with different volume. I didn’t want to climb into the wet grass in the shoes, but I thought I just had to find out what was there. I took the blade, turned off the light on the doorway so that my eyes would get used to the darkness and started slowly going to the sound. It was scary to be a writer. I got closer and closer and the stones stopped. I approached the place where the sound seemed to come from, but I saw nothing unusual. I stumbled and suddenly the stone repeated half a meter from me and I saw... I saw the cat fucking the cat fucking! I’m standing like an idiot whispering with a spade, and the cat is fucking the cat and looking at me, the bastard.

After pulling out a couple with a knock of my legs and shouting, I went into the house. Judging from the sight of the dog coming out of the couch, she was very pleased to see me alive. I then told her for half an hour what a shit she was and that the house should be guarded and not hidden under the couch.