Once an incredibly funny story happened to me. The whole family came to the village for the summer. Me and my dad are going fishing. We didn't have to go far, because the river was right behind the garden.
This was not the first time I went fishing, so I knew approximately what was happening and how. While helping my father to untangle the line, I heard a strange rustle in the bushes. There was a coniferous forest on the other side, so we concluded that it could be a squirrel. Dad and I took turns casting our fishing rods, and in less than a minute each of us pulled out an average perch that was found here in abundance. The river was so clear and transparent, and the sun bright, that their shining scales and red fins could be easily seen bent over the crystal water.
We put our catch in a pre-prepared net and decided to have a snack. Mom gave us sandwiches for the trip so that we don't go hungry. But in the bag where they had been lying before, they were gone. “It's strange, I remember exactly putting them on the bottom of my backpack,” Dad said in disappointment and surprise at the same time. Something rustled in the bushes again, and we immediately turned our heads in the direction of the continuous noise.
Father got up and crawled into the bushes, and went out already holding by the scruff of our red cat Vasily, in whose teeth was one of the perches we caught. The gnawed bones of the second, after a careful examination of the bushes, were found next to the remains of bread from sandwiches. Well, the cat could hardly keep on its paws and looked more like a ginger Kolobok.
From that day on, he got another nickname Glutton. Of course, not every cat can eat so much!
