Once in the summer I went to a former classmate - she and I were going for a joint weekly walk. I’m stomping around in the hallway, Tatyana is going and is telling me something. Immediately, her teenage daughter shows me something. I have to listen to both.
Information from the kinesthetic register is received from the floor: their cat Night is black in yellow spots of different sizes, the color is “starry night” (the name of the color has just been invented, it should be patented) persistently ramming my drumstick with its head.
Fearing a fracture of both bones (tibia and tibia), I lean toward the Night: she, having stopped pushing, takes several steps towards the kitchen. I decided that she didn’t like my presence.
- Yes, I'm leaving, I'm leaving already!
I listen further to mom and daughter, but the maneuver with the ram and the retreat to the left is repeated.
Then it dawned on me: The night was calling me precisely and to the kitchen!
The cat leads me to its bowls: there is no food there.
- Tan! I shout. - He asks for a night!
I am writing now and I think: do I know this family well? Maybe their cat eats crippled guests?
“My daughter and I are starving today, and so is the cat!”
“Did you inform the cat?”
Sometimes these animals (dogs, cats, horses) amaze me with their ingenuity in trying to make contact with a person. Remember the story of how a moose cow stopped a truck on a forest road and led its driver to its child? The calf was tangled in the branches of a fallen tree, and only a man could provide assistance.