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Several years ago, we lived at home kitten. his name was ginger. the kitten was a red-haired man, only tummy he had a little white. most attracted his mustache - and long pushistenkie. when he asked for there, then i began to meow a small voice. stand up demanded: "meow" - and looks closely at his eyes. and then again: "meow! " after eat and drink some milk, a kitten loved to play with a ball of yarn. quickly run up to me, touched foot to the glomerulus and hides under the table. then he begins to peek out, flashing his blue eyes. and i pretend to not look at him. then ginger slowly begins to creep up to the glomerulus, thinking that it can not be seen. but it gave a ponytail, lifted her up. when he crept very close, sniffing a ball of his rosy nose. and i quietly pulling the strings, and a ball began to move. kitten quickly ran away, knocking claws on the floor. when we are tired of this game, i beckoned to her ryzhik. he gladly resorted. i took him in my arms and began to stroke. a pretty kitten purring, pressed me his soft back and sweet sleep. this story about a kitten, my daughter alina wrote a couple of years ago. another of her story can be read here.

Вроде d) little, если не ошибаюсь)