These things are sent to try me

Things had been going so well. Wiffle was generally submissive and with Mr.Boofers on this bridge I was getting poll position in the lap stakes.

That's when "it" arrived. Its name is Millie. It runs around all the time, and climbs over everything. It can't miaow. It goes Maaaaaaaaaa, half the time it does not even open it's mouth when making noises. After an initial challenge it has submitted. But it will never be an aid to the cause. It's not really a proper cat is my conclusion. Evil missions can not afford simpletons on board. I have world domination to plan.

The humans fuss over the noisy article, and it's steal my training equipment, such as the feather stick. Worse still the Wimble has decided to befriend it. I will not have dissension in the ranks. Divide and conquer is my motto. Therefore if the Wizzle dares to enter the same room as Miffle (whatever) I have punished her. The humans really need to get with the program. I was chastised for my leadership techniques. I have demonstrated my authority with some random night time killing cries. The humans have had 3 sleepless nights now. They can't take much more, they will break soon.

Mr.Boofers

I've been a little off my game. But operations have now recently been resumed.

Mr.Boofers is no longer in Wales, the furless ones have told me he has gone to Rainbow bridge. This is where we go when our bodies get old and tired and we wait for the furless ones. I asked if I could go and visit him and the furless mother said absolutely not.

It's not the same without him. There is no smell of his tail, or any of his dinner to steal. The furless mother's mother "Nanny" is very sad still.

Operational news: we've been busy. 2 of the 6 grinning imps have been destroyed. Wimble's been warming them up for me, it gives me more time to formulate the UK side of the evil plan.

The infidels from the corner cottage are now increased in number. The furless mother encourages thes stinking furballs much to my chargrin. We have Dolly the plank which I have spoken about, and Twoggy the fluff ball. I will admit he smells good, but I still don't want it in my house. The furless mother feeds him MY dentabits. To teach her a lesson I have regurgitated dinner on the quilt, loudly killed the grinning imp in the middle of the night and scuffed one of Wiffle's poos out of the tray onto the clean washing. I hate to have to resort to this, but it's tough love time. Anyway, now we have infidel No.3, Lady. Lady is white all over and mad as a box of frogs. This cat will not leave me alone. I have boxed her nose and hissed at her but she still wants to kiss me. Why oh Why am I surrounded by these simpletons?