Rus Articles Journal

Members of the family of

the Dog thinks: “I am fed, with me played, walk, I do everything that I will wish - my owner - my God“. And the cat thinks:“ I am fed, with me played, walk, I do everything that I will wish, so I am a God“.

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In these words very much precisely expressed common features in characters of animals.

never kept either dogs, or cats In my family, was considered that they can have some infection. It also did not come to my mind, I, as well as all children, madly wanted the fluffy friend.

with

of the Dog for some reason never attracted my attention though if to trust popular wisdom, they look more advantageously. I very much loved cats. Fluffy and sleek-haired, clever and foolish, thoroughbred and “mongrels“, black and red and in general all who are able to mew. When was still absolutely small, we lived in Kyrgyzstan, we had a huge kitchen garden where grew much - a lot of strawberry, roses and slightly - slightly raspberry which the grandfather brought me in the morning in the big tired-out palm.

Tam to us pribluditsya by

a black cat - Katka. It was proud and capricious, admitted nobody to itself, except our family. And that me favored slightly less, than the others for what I grieved: very much there was a wish to play with it in “daughters there are mothers“, and to it not on temper this cheerful and interesting game for some reason had. Katka protected our hen house with chickens, sometimes came to a door, but into the apartment came very seldom and by the big invitation. She was a free and proud cat, never made up and did not hum, just as if gave itself to love. Real Gipsy. It had kittens whom it protected from all growl, snorting and a terrible grin. For some reason I remember only two: brisk black, same proud and free, as it, and real “barsik“ (brown striped) - tender and friendly.

From Kyrgyzstan we moved to live to Ukraine (we with ourselves did not take Katka, but it, actually, also did not gather) where after a while we got, already consciously, a greyish kitten. Long thought how to call it. As a result the name was thought up by the grandmother - the Barin`s son. As a result he became Barchunya. Very clever and bright, cheerful and playful. He liked to have a rest on a kitchen garden among heads of cabbage and as soon as we called him, flew “like mad“. Two months later after its emergence it was gone in our house. I very much was upset, cried at ease and could not understand in any way how so it could turn out. Probably, to brighten up my grief, in a month the aunt brought to us black with a white breast and white moustaches of Kuzyu.

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of Kuzya it was very attached to the grandmother - recognized nobody any more, followed it on heels. As soon as it sat down, approached and eyes asked for permission to sit down to it on hands, the grandmother clapped a palm on a leg, and he, happy and purring, got. Somehow time, during repair in kitchen, early in the morning Kuzya fell down in a bucket with a lime. How many was to shout: was frightened, ran to complain to the grandmother, all white and dirty climbed to her on a bed and let`s cry, the grandmother redeemed it and dried up that was followed by bloodcurdling screams and sick tsarapanye.

my aunt loved

of This cat most, it with it had relations: they understood each other from the semi-phrase. The entrance to the house was preceded by a small corridor, its aunt called “platform“. If Kuzya shkodit, she spoke to it:“ Kuzya! To the platform“. The cat hung ears, the head and obediently went to the platform. Kuzya - a unique cat. It goes to a toilet, sitting on a toilet bowl, and then tries “to dig“. He learned it itself, probably, several times saw how it is done by people, and too decided to try … It was pleasant.

When the grandfather died, our cat grew thin twice and two more weeks after a funeral it approached a grandfather`s bed, rose on back pads and... cried, cried, did not mew, did not whine. It did not represent that it is possible to live without people, and very much was attached to us.

In a year of life in Ukraine we moved to Russia where we live still. We with ourselves did not take a cat - gave to acquaintances, and all our family very much is sorry about it. There were certain obstacles in respect of inoculations and permission to evacuation of an animal, but all this it was possible to overcome and not to throw our Kuzyu.

we long enough lived In Russia without cats: I studied in the senior classes, then entered the institute in Moscow. There was nobody to look after cats, and we remembered Kuzyu - could not replace it with someone.

After the termination of institute at work the colleague advertized to me the Persian blue cat. Masya there was a pregnant woman - the pregnant woman and here - here had to give rise. I told, it is rather for fun:“ If is black - I will take“. And it was - black with black moustaches, black small pillows of pads and green eyes. Small - a small lump. In the first night began to cry, looked for mother, then got on a bed and peed the pants on a leg to the husband, but he did not take offense, told that a kitten small and it it, probably, in a dream. We called by his brave name Scythian. Time to carry it to the grandmother with mother came (they live in Moscow area). We had no car, we put him in a cap (there was a winter terribly cold) and went by bus, on the road he razmyaukatsya - it became boring, ordered to look to it out of the window - looked.

the Scythian on character something reminds

our Katka, difference that he is a mad coward. Is afraid of each rustle though appearance at it frightening: a huge black cat with a wild animal look - here such paradox. After three years of serene dwelling at us of the Scythian, to mother in shop the kitty whom it took itself pribluditsya, brought home and called Simon. Skif had a shock. In - the first, at first he very much was afraid of this blue-eyed lump, then he realized that now from it not to get to anywhere, but is not going to be on friendly terms though she behaves as the real woman, makes advances to it and makes up. And he does not pay to it the slightest attention, I already seriously reflect, maybe, he - a cat of nonconventional orientation?

Simona is a mother`s cat. They love each other to impossibility. Since morning kisses begin. Simona comes “to tell“ to mother “good morning“, likes to sleep at her on handles as the little baby, goes behind it everywhere, “helps“ to paint windows, to putty walls and to hammer nails.

for the weekend we go To Moscow area to mother, the grandmother, a beautiful noble, coward cat - the nobleman Skif and the kosolapenky short-legged beauty Simona. Here such family members at us.