Koshka went nuts for my balls. My super-unnatural-bellybutton-fur-balls, that is. After discovering I can magically produce them, a few weeks back, Koshka couldn’t stop sucking them down, gorging on those fluffy delights. He possessed an insatiable hunger.
It made him quite aggressive, to tell you the
pravda, only the
pravda and nothing but the
pravda. He was…
Begging for them.
Snatching them when I wasn’t quite focused.
Taking them by force.
It wasn’t too long before Koshka became the Marlon Brando of cats, and by saying that I don’t mean he became the godfather in a Coppola masterpiece.
He just became fat. And then he became even more
tolstak.
Something had to be done...
***
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