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 06.12.2020
I almost got "inherited" a mocking shell, which was tearfully blotted "to take for a couple of weeks." I don’t especially like cats, but for a couple of weeks, a supposedly educated cat... Okay, let it live, it won’t go away from me in a couple of weeks! The harvest and sorter were promised to be given with the cat.



Going to me, the cat immediately got a bullshit from a powerful dog-killer of the remarkable German Daxshund breed and for the first couple of days moved exclusively under the ceiling.

On the first night, the swallowed monster sat on the refrigerator and apparently trained in vocal data for the spring chase. Melodically so, with different voices and tonalities.

As she stuck, the killer dog, beaten by these screams, broke up and went to check whether the cat broke the ground perimeter. I stumbled onto the cat with tapes, but the sparkly animal handled and knocked his eyes, cried.

So the week passed, for which the cat got pursued by the "Dirty Cat Moussa" (it was originally somewhat cunningly called, such as "Queen of Milena Bagira", or something like this hunky, did not remember), learned to skillfully bypass the dog seats, and steal me, for the purpose of giving her to eat (it had to buy her a bag of food and put a bowl on the window, because the dog, seeing the unnecessity in the form of a roaring cat, rushed to give her puzzles, and eat it all, although the dog did not recognize the dry hunky before the monster appeared in the house at all).

By the end of the second week, the ugly cat Musya skillfully robbed the dog’s bowl for the subject of the nuts and amused the dog with a piece of something in its teeth when it burned it for this action. During the day I stumbled into the closet, and at night silently stumbled past the dog guarding my couch and stumbled on me for the purpose of scratching my naked mocked rod or stomach, ticking my harry in the hand, and ticking like a tank diesel.

The whole house began to be covered with a cloth, which I and Matthew killed in the morning with a clothes roll.



By the end of the third week, I called the owners of the mocked creature, with the well-known question "when you will take your monster," and I was answered that they were fucking to Thailand type for a year, and the cat can be thrown off, you can right from the balcony, if she was so fucking me.

Having told the ex-masters that they were rare pydoras and greatly surprised me with their behavior (I know these people a long time ago, never noticed such a shit, and here on you...), hanged the telephone, and began to think what to do with happiness, which was already so upset that ignored the dog, turned in his legs, cried and demanded to eat.

...

In short, the ugly cat Musya lives with me for the sixth year, has eaten up to the size of a small straw, and judging by its naked rose, is quite happy.
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