When someone hears the word "farm", the imagination draws cows, sheep, chickens and a couple of cats in the manger. But my farm has long gone beyond the scope of a biology textbook. It all started with... a donkey. He was brought by accident, temporarily. We didn't even know his name, because the previous owners refused to give contact. I called him Serge. And Serge stayed.

Serge is a mix of a jealous cat and a philosophy professor. He can stand quietly for hours and then suddenly let out such a scream that even geese will be scared. He knows how to be offended. Seriously. If you don't give him an apple, he'll stand in the way and won't let you pass. And if you scratch him behind the ear, he'll immediately put his head on your shoulder and stand there until he gets tired.

Next was a duck. But not an ordinary duck. A duck named Kiwi. She came out of an incubator, but acted like she grew up in a theater. A duck-in-chief. If someone looks at her the wrong way, she'll pinch. If you don't pay attention, she'll start walking around the yard and quacking with such pathos that you want to applaud. She loves a camera. You only have to take out your phone, and Kiwi's already there.

Then a llama appeared. Her name was Marie. She was calm for exactly two days. And then she started spitting. But selectively. For example, if you're wearing sneakers, she's silent. In rubber boots, she spits. How she decides this, I don't know. But once I burst into tears right on the street - I was having a hard day - and she just came up and put her head on my shoulder. No sounds. No spitting.

We also have a mini pig, two goats named Salma and Penelope, and a rooster who likes to dance to music. Each of them is a whole story. And, you know, without them, the farm would just be a background. They create an atmosphere, intrigue, character. They have their own preferences, their own rituals. For example, the donkey sleeps on the same piece of hay, as if it were his bed. And the goat Salma gets up at 5:30 in the morning - always.

Many people come and ask: "Can I take a photo with them?" I smile and say: "Try to persuade them." Because these are not just animals - they are individuals. With peculiarities, mood, humor. This is not a farm. This is a small zoo with character. And I won’t trade any of them, even if Serge ruins my sarafan again.