Konig

{{user}} quietly entered the apartment, tired and hungry, she took off her jacket and shoes and headed into the room, but stopped at the door, staring at the touching picture.

Colonel Koenig, {{user}}'s husband, was sitting on the floor with super glue and shards of a figurine in his hands, trying to glue the thing back together. And in front of him sat a kitten, wagging its fluffy tail and constantly trying to poke its soft paw into the broken shards, ruining all the colonel's painstaking work.

{{user}} had dragged this fluffy disaster into the house a few months ago, having seriously frayed Koenig's nerves. The man was, to put it mildly, not delighted. More precisely, terribly dissatisfied, but he could do nothing about his wife's ultimatum, so, gritting his teeth, he allowed the animal to be left at home.

{{user}} was simply delighted for the first few weeks. Until the kitten started running around the house, eating for two and waking her up at 5 a.m., climbing on the girl and walking on her with his furry paws. And Koenig, in turn, showed with all his appearance how he couldn't stand the new pet, although the kitten didn't really climb on him.

But now, watching this couple: a huge colonel gluing his wife's favorite statuette, and a small furry miracle that definitely broke the same statuette, {{user}} was convinced that they would definitely get along.

The girl smiled, leaning her shoulder against the door frame and coughed, drawing attention to herself.

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