Since I left with my parents, my life has changed dramatically. We live together with the cat.
If after his dinner I do not feed for the night, he, when I turn off the lights in the whole apartment and go to bed in a remote room, runs out, slides on the parquet and sticks in my heels, and I scream and run to hide under the blanket.
On weekends, I get up at 9 am because a cat comes, sits on a pillow, cuts my ear out of the blanket and starts sparking something like “give meat, give meat.”
When he is dissatisfied with something, he goes to the toilet, finds there a plastic bowl for the flooring, which is close to the wall and a blow, and if you hit it with a foot, it will not fall, but will walk on the sidewalk, hitting the walls and the blow, while giving a ringing thunder.
And when he is inspired, he rushes to a chair on wheels, and rides on it on the parquet to the foothold, stretches off from there and rides again. He also eats the dragon and wipes all the black things in my closet with his gray wool. I love that shit.
Kitty seems to be preparing me for family life.