I yield to pressures unheard of the public who wants me to hand and cries of pictures lolita-kungfu. Meanwhile, Modestine shared an old palace with three transplants half-crazy and I then followed me Save into my back. We live on top of a sort of tower sits on the ancient walls of the village. One of these walls a thousand years old going into the house.
short. Two days ago, I and not a little startled when he heard the meow vélominette. I was taken aback because in normal times, it is silent. When she wants something, go out, water, dry food, she comes near me and grabbed my knee on both legs. Even back from outside, she falls silent and prefer to knock on the window of a few subtle claws. Essentially, she meows as cycling, when tired of driving, she has something urgent to do, or it hallucinates that passes through the corner and requires them to walk tab (usually very large trees which she climbs on top in three seconds).
To make a long story (almost) short, well, since before yesterday Modestine meows. She suffers and I can absolutely nothing for her. She spends her nights on rooftops to wail and howl. I must say it has one year on April 6 and that life being what it is, uh ... gurl, You'll Be a Woman Soon ...
© Éric McComber 
