Chapter 2

Ne y zaabre, and greetings from the Big Pomme!

Me, comfortably accepting my New York lifestyle -- I'm working to disprove the theory that this city doesn't sleep.

I'm sorry that I haven't been updating the digital world more often. I've been spending a large percentage of my time in the past two weeks sleeping, trying to trick Amy into thinking I've escaped, and struggling to adjust to the major life changes she's subjecting me to.

I'm proud to say that I sucessfully asserted my domination over the dog-which-shall-not-be-named very early into my time in Howell. A quick hiss and growl from me, and she went running. If only I  could do the same to Amy...

Me and Beetle

I learned a lot in my short time in New Jersey. I met things like carpets, bookshelves, canned cat food, armchairs, dust (not the Africa kind, the kind under Amy's bed), women's sports on television, vinyl records and Aunt Sarah. Most of those things confused me to no end, especially the last one. I forgave her when she brought me Beetle, my favorite toy. But still. She hides her feet from me. What's that about? I also got to experience an American cat-logtore! Amy calls her a... vet? She taught me many things about deception, which I have been trying every day to apply to my hunting strategies. She snuggled me real close, then stole some of my blood! I'd have been incredibly impressed if I wasn't busy screaming and wriggling out of her grasp. 

Bookshelves make excellent lairs.

I only lived in Howell for about a week and a half - just enough time to become comfortable there - before Amy forced me back into my travel bag and put me in a car (*Amy note: he shuddered as he said that). Next thing I knew I was living in a new house, which appears to be in the sky if my understanding of those things Amy calls "windows" is correct. Yes, only about two months after I was dumped out of the rice sack in Koukin, I was dumped out of a much posher bag in Manhattan. I'm a real jet setter. Amy says we're just borrowing Aunt Sarah's house so Amy can "find another meaningful job." I will believe that as soon as I see her get out of bed, which I don't think she's done in three days. Not that I'm one to talk. I've become very comfortable here, too.

I got to meet some of Amy's nasara friends - Alex, and the little one - and as much as I felt they stripped away my freedoms and wouldn't let me hide under a chair like I wanted, they treated me like a human baby, and for that I decided not to attempt to kill them.

I miss Africa, and I think Amy does, too. There are lots of little things in this new house that smell like Koukin -- I think because Amy brought a lot of parts of Burkina home with her. But I will always rest assured that I'm the most important souvenir she has.

(*At this point in his dictation he fell asleep in the middle of my bed -- his half is the three-foot circle in the middle of the bed -- and I'm too afraid to wake him up. So we'll leave it there.*)