The creature continues to challenge

The creature -- I still cannot bring myself to say his name -- has added a layer of mystery to his already doubtfull qualities. I have overheard mistress saying that she thinks he is actually a girl. This does not bode well, as a palace cannot have two queens. At present, the young one is too young for me to discern his gender. We will just have to wait and see.

Although my life has changed in many unpleasant ways, the infant can be amusing. Last evening, for example, I toyed with him, batting him gently aside as he rushed toward me. He seemed to enjoy being tossed across the room, as he kept returning, arching his back and sticking his tiny paw out from under the bedskirt so that I could play with it. However, he pushed me too far this morning, being so bold as to eat from my dish. There are limits to my patience.

And I sometimes need to feel that I am protected from the advances of the small one. The young master who brought the creature home has, among the litter in his chamber, a small box that apparently once contained shoes. it is a snug fit for me, but comforting.

My World Turned Upside Down

My life has changed in a most disturbing way. One of the young masters brought an interloper into the household -- a tiny furball of a cat with long hair and orange and black spots. He named it Bobo.

Bobo (and, I hasten to add, the name is most apt--a stupid sort of name for a stupid sort of creature) has no respect for position and seniority. Despite my most terrifying hisses and snarls, the infant insists on approaching me, following me about and once even daring to play with my tail. The indignity is most dreadful. It is all I can do to prevent myself from sitting on him or rearrnging his simpering face with my claws.

I have taken to hiding under mistress's bed, where the creature has not yet ventured. I believe I have been loyal and most affectionate, but clearly I have offended in some way. Why else would they turn their attentions to another?

Although I would like to solve this mystery, I am exhausted by having to remain constantly alert. The small one -- I can hardly bring myself to say his name -- moves quickly, surprising me in a most unpleasant way. His cries when seeking the attention of the humans are piercing and extremely irritating. In short, the last few days have been very trying,