I am writing to you, the cat Skizi Mazonkin. I write from a burning tank, that is, from under the sofa. It’s dusty and hot in here. But I’m not complaining. I’ll probably go out at night. Eeehh, sorry, the pate was left in the kitchen.
Actually, under the sofa is not bad. Here would be a bowl of food, a little water, my hare, a tray, a swing, a flower bed with marigolds, a ball, a blanket, and it would be very good. However, I’m not whimsical, I’ll sit out anyway.
Let me start by saying it’s not my fault! And I endure all these unthinkable hardships solely out of love for kpatetuetim. Otherwise, I would have taken my belongings long ago and left, (I furtively wipe away a tear). But how do you leave them? After all, nothing without me!
Anyway, let’s get down to business! Like I said, it’s not my fault! That big green book jumped on me! How to fall off the table right on my tail !! Barely managed to bounce! So what if I just lay there, and perhaps I accidentally moved it myself! What to fall immediately! Yes, it would be okay to just fall. The stupid book fell next to the bowl of water. I, on the other hand, was frightened by an attempt on the tail and accidentally knocked over the bowl. As if this green one could not fall somewhere far away!
Now I have to hide. The unkempt one yells, This one giggles. I alone endure deprivation and need under the sofa! Where, you ask, is justice?!
Sincerely yours, hungry, poor little cat with an injured tail.
Think it got wet!
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I sit, I don’t touch anyone. Then this boar will crash from the table, along with Dostoevsky. How it jumps around the kitchen! Stepped into the bowl. Everywhere water, a whole flood! The cat disappeared, Sasha neighs, I’m the only one lamenting!
The book has become wider across itself!
I thought it would dry out and nothing! But no. The cat did a great job!