“...I brought the animal into the house and began to feed it. He ate and ate and ate. He ate and ate and ate. First, he ate raw-smoked Ostankinskaya ham, then grilled chicken from an Uzbek stall, then pounced on cold-smoked flounder, finished off canned food from Kamchatka Ukha, drank a liter of milk and climbed up to hug me on the sofa. He released sharp claws from his small black paws and climbed up my robe towards my face - probably to kiss me..."