Читать книгу Небывалые былицы для Алешки - Ольга Манько - Страница 6

I have got a cat. Her name sounds beautiful and very tasty. You will never guess her name. Her name is Sausage. And there’s no need to laugh. She is called so, because she loves sausages very much and prefers them to any other food. In my cat there’s enough room for exactly three sausages from her nose to the tail end, but it would be silly to call the cat Three Sausages, you know. It is rather long, uncomfortable and besides, neighbours would laugh at me. Just imagine, I go out to the balcony and call the cat loudly, ‘Three Sausages! Three Sausages!’ Everybody has been used to the name Sausage very quickly and nobody laughs at it.

My cat Sausage came to my house on her own. She rang the door. It was not she, of course, but Nataliya Mikhaylovna from the flat thirty-five rang the door and said,

‘Mew!’ It was not Nataliya Mikhaylovna, but Sausage said, Mew!’, but Nataliya Mikhaylovna from the flat thirty-five said,

‘Well, Vasiliy Alexandrovich, I’ve brought you your cat.’

‘This is not my cat’, I said.

‘It should be yours’, said Nataliya Mikhaylovna with surprise. ‘It was sitting on your mat in front of the door.’

‘The mat is mine, but the cat isn’t, dear Nataliya Mikhaylovna,’ I said.

Frankly speaking, I was very busy at that moment and I didn’t care about cats.

‘You know, dear Vasiliy Alexandrovich,’ said Nataliya Mikhaylovna, ‘Intelligent and educated people never throw cats into the street, at least they give them into good hands.’

I got angry and said,

‘I didn’t throw out the cat into the street; it was sitting on my doormat. But still it isn’t my cat.’

‘Isn’t it yours? It should be yours!’ said Nataliya Mikhaylovna with indignation, ‘You’ve told yourself, that it was sitting on your mat!’

“If I sit on your mat, will I be considered yours?’ I asked.

Nataliya Mikhaylovna looked at me strictly and said,

‘No, you won’t.’

‘Why not,’ I asked.

‘You won’t, because, firstly you are a big man and you won’t fit on my mat; secondly you can neither mew, nor bark. What’s the use of you as a pet?

I got offended, that I would be of no use.

‘What’s the use of a cat, for example?’ I asked.

‘The use is the following,’ answered Nataliya Mikhaylovna, ‘A cat is tender and merry, it can catch mice.’

‘I don’t have mice.’

‘You don’t have now, but in future you may have them,’ said Nataliya Mikhaylovna. ‘You will remember suddenly, but it will be late. Mice will gnaw all your pictures.’

‘How can mice appear on the ninth floor?’ I asked.

‘There are special flying mice, they are called bats,’ answered Nataliya Mikhaylovna,’ I’m afraid of them.’

I only opened my mouth to offer Nataliya Mikhaylovna the cat, as she was afraid of mice, at that very moment we heard terrible crash from the room. We both ran to see what had happened. It turned out that Sausage, who wasn’t Sausage at that time yet, but simply anybody’s cat, jumped at my desk, overturned the vial with Red Indian ink on itself, got dirty all over and, feeling scared, it started to run all over the pictures, the sofa, the armchairs, the carpet, leaving red footprints everywhere.

‘Vasiliy Alexandrovich,’ shouted Nataliya Mikhaylovna. ‘You’d better catch the cat; otherwise it will make dirty everything.’

We caught Sausage and washed it in the bathroom for a long time. Nataliya Mikhaylovna even brought her lovely shampoo, but we failed to wash ink off Sausage. And after all that Nataliya Mikhaylovna said,

‘I’m sorry, Vasiliy Alexandrovich, now I see, that it is not your cat. But I think, we cannot simply push it out, we must give it into good hands.’

‘What about my hands, Nataliya Mikhaylovna?’ I asked, ‘My hands are good, too, and I’m used to the cat. Besides, the cat suits my furniture: it is in red spots and the cat has got red spots, too. It is quite original, nice and pleases my eyes.’

‘What a kind man you are, Vasiliy Alexandrovich. May I come to you and visit the cat?’

‘Mew-mew!’ said Sausage and rubbed against Nataliya Mikhaylovna’s legs.

‘You see,’ I said. ‘It agrees and I will be glad, too.’

Then Nataliya Mikhaylovna came to see us and brought Sausage different tasty things and even took it for a walk. In the street she kept Sausage on a lead, like a watchdog. To our surprise, Sausage liked the lead. Sometimes Sausage asked,

‘M-m-muzzle, m-m-muzzle.’

But I think, a cat in a muzzle isn’t decent, and if you are a cat, you shouldn’t imagine that you are a dog. Am I right?

Nataliya Mikhaylovna visited us very often. One day I thought why she should run from one flat to another. It would be better, if we lived together. I told Nataliya Mikhaylovna about that and she agreed. After that we got married. Sausage was the main guest on our wedding, and I uttered a toast,

‘Sausage, a thousand thanks to you! I know now, how useful domestic animals are. We love you very much. All the guests shouted, ‘Hooray!’, and Sausage looked proudly at them, winked and said loudly, ‘Mew-mew!’ What nice Sausage I have got!