They say children: a touching story about a lost cat
Julia Guz, 10 years
We lost the cat. Her name was Kitsya. True, it was not a name - our great-grandmother Paulie had many cats before Kitsi, and she somehow called everyone. And all these cats sooner or later disappeared. Therefore, great-grandmother Paul Kitsyu did not name any name, but simply said kindly: Kitsya.
Great-grandmother died when I was four years old, and Kitz remained. We continued to call the cat Kitsya. When they asked us: "And what is your cat's name?" - we answered: "Kitsya".
We left for Grandma Lyuda, she fed us with meat and Kitsa handed over the stones. That day to feed Kitsyu was my sister's turn Sofya. Then Kitsya was still at our house. And the next day to feed Kitsu was my turn. After school, I returned home, and no one met me near the gate. I somehow did not pay attention to it. And at supper I remembered that I needed to feed Kitsu, and put her fish. And she did not come.
I was very sad. I thought that it was all because of us, because our cat had a name - someone could give her a name and she stayed with those people, and we did not call her anything.Or maybe she left because she was old and did not want to upset us when she died.
The next day, when my dad and I were going to school, we called Kitsu both in the courtyard and on the street, but she did not appear.
Four weeks have already passed since her disappearance, but I still lack a fluffy ball that spins around my legs when I approach the gate. And I still hope that Kitsya will come, will again be with me and live for a long, long time.