Serebistya (The Kitten) Has Had A Stroke Of Misfortune

My sweet Serek (the contraction of her name, almost all Russians do this), has not acclimatised to Copenhagen well. For one reason. In Kiev, she was in a sealed flat, an indoor cat. In Copenhagen, she lives on the second floor of an apartment with open windows. I am assured by the just as lovely Sub that she is nursing only wounded pride and a broken leg, which is healing in a splinter. On top of that, I’m raising money for playgrounds in deepest Russia, gissa a quid