Quasimodo è il gatto della mia vicina di casa. E' bellissimo, pelo beige gonfio e morbido, occhi azzurri incantatori, tranquillo e caparbio, curiosissimo.
Ovviamente non va d'accordo col mio che si è visto spodestato del tetto di cui ora non è più l'unico passeggiatore; appena lo vede gli soffia e spesso ho trovato ciuffi di peli variegati neri e beige in casa mia, segno di lotte finite zero a zero.
E' evidente che Quasimodo, infischiandosene della cattiva accoglienza, entra a suo piacimento anche nel sancta sanctorum del suo dirimpettaio nero.
L'altro giorno che avevo lasciato inadvertently open the door of the room, on my return I found some items moved and seemed to me that he lacked even a bouquet of dried flowers which retain for some time and several times I thought about trashing. At the time he threw away the doubt of it has come back and I'm done with this issue.
Last night the neighbor heard me coming, he opened his door and said:-Look, excuse a moment, but this is yours?
was the bouquet. In practice it was that happened one morning while he was washing his face and was so slow without it 'goggles, he saw his cat appear with something in his mouth and immediately thought it was a prey tettaiola maybe still alive. He then locked the cat, he is armed with goggles, gloves and rags and reopened the door to the cat.
That was always there behind that looked a bit 'offended, widening the famous blue eyes and in her mouth .... a bouquet of flowers. For her.
He confessed that he had even moved.
And then I had to do? Take back the flowers? No, it was his now, a tribute to the cat's Quasimodo, thief bouquet.
0 comments:
Post a Comment