Like a sick cat

Sick cat. Cold. Lies, paws folded, rolled his eyes, tail spread – “I’m sorry if that was not so.” Wife in mourning hanging on the phone phoning all and Sundry in search of cat rescue. Finally bring some pills. Enormous size. Began to shove pills down a cat in the mouth. The cat, though dying, face spit, spitting and screaming like a steam siren. I offered to put this medicine to a cat on the other hand, a good grandmother to soak the tablet in Valerian. Ran the bubble, made all the manipulations and held the cat.

The cat woke up. Sprang to his feet. And ate the pill for a sweet soul. Because he was “sick” in the morning and in the morning and didn’t eat, he immediately passed out. The cat, forgetting that he is sick, became all cute smile, walking around the apartment and humming to himself vulgar songs. Everything calmed down. In vain. An hour later came the hangover. My cat, instantly linking cause and effect, to lie down on the barrels, folding her legs and rolling her eyes begins to “die”. Compassionate grandma pours him a second…

By the end of the day, in the conventional cat come in absolutely bestial state – sung during obscene songs and howled so that the neighbors blood ran cold. Ended up declaring himself the Mustang, the cat began to hop around the apartment, “imprinted” face into a door jamb, grinned idiotically and passed out.

In the morning, not fully sober cat, decided to turn the “gate” legs again. Now on the balcony. Habitually spread. And we forgot it and was closed for three days, fleeing to the country.

Three days later, when we opened the balcony, and found the cat sitting meekly beside dried and half-eaten carrots, perfectly sober and very unfortunate.

And Valerian

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