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       The most beautiful for me will always be the first two years: when there were only seven
of us children on the ship. And the peak of that period came: when we got a black kitten.
       The mystical carroty male feline decided never to step out of the realm of shadows   and
secrets again:  and even the daily milk treat:  we served him in the fuel section for two weeks
didn't convince him  - he licked it dry every time: only when we stopped having fun lurking him
and we went away.
       After that:  the children began to be really emphatically and persistently unbearable in
their demand for a pet.
       Ema even started a protest hunger strike: plugging her ears and loudly repeating      "I
don't listen to you - I don't listen to you!" every time: when I tried to explain to her: how a
cat is actually a dangerous beast for small birds and lizards: what live in greenhouses.
       One morning: when no one spoke to me during breakfast: I said to myself:     that it was
enough          - for direct selfish and stupid endangering the entire existence of life in the
universe: I sent the doctor a sincere imaginary "sorry"  - and I left to the hatchery.
       The almighty tt-incubator informed me after a short correspondence: that in sixteen days
my obstetric assistance would be needed: which I would be reminded twenty four: six and an hour
before that. Of course completely uselessly:   because the kids kept reminding me of that every
half hour during the entire period.
       We drew a big calendar together: and each morning we crossed out another number:  and on
the eve of the big day: we voted after a short and heated dialogue: that if it's a girl - we'll
name her Bastet: and if it's a boy: we'll call him Tiger.
       The  existence  of  completely   black  tigers is said to have never been scientifically
confirmed         - in all documented cases: it was only yellow tigers with very thick stripes.
Therefore: from day one: we showed our Tiger due respect and deep love     - when he opened his
baby blue eyes for the first time: and spoke in his subtle: but proud voice    - we could never
deny him anything     - and we heroically endured the all manifestations of his life's mission:
which he chose as soon as he first time bravely stood on his paws - namely:    the mission of a
continuous biter and grabber of everything and hunter and lurker for whichever.  True: the poor
little cleaning robots and the innocent holographic lady teacher had to suffer the most of all.
       Creative classes was regularly interrupted by a predatory long jump:   or a beastly jump
turned with a half somersault and wide spread claws: alternatively:   with blitz hunting ambush
from the hiding place with a subsequent tumble and an immediate re-attack.
       Our Tiger simply could never at any cost admit:     that something could escape from his
deadly claws     - and the glittering projection of a young dark-haired lecturer:    became his
arch-enemy for life.
       He grew and matured practically at the speed of light  - and when I noticed: that he had
to try very hard to climb up to his favorite place on the cupboard - I realized he got old just
as quickly.
       Probably then - it occurred to me for the first time that acceleration will have similar
manifestations in children as well   - but in those days I was continuously occupied with their
turbulent adolescence:   so I left it shelved under versicolored diaries:  menstrual calendars:
enrollments from disdainful verbal fencings:  and sketchbooks of grossly simplified vaginas and
penises.