Hello! It's nice to be remembered by friends out there in cyberspace. "20,000 Seeds Under the Sea" has netted me a great deal of attention out there in the world of literate rodents, and things are going very well. I am happy to report that I now have progeny! Several of them. I have done my duty and passed on my genes to the future generations. Yes, one of my most ardent fans, Letitia, has become my loving partner, and has moved into Zoe's cave. She has her own cage. She is an adorable and determined creature, typical of the best in female hamsters. I plan to have many more progeny as soon as possible.

Meanwhile Freddy's genius for invention continues to astound. We have had several hair-raising adventures in a gas-powered airplane which Freddy converted from radio control to manual, from inside the cockpit. It has a double cockpit with a rear observer and bombardier position. It was from that very position, as Freddy flew the plane, that I succeeded in bombing The Cat, Mizzenchip, with an explosive device called a cherry bomb. Ha! You should have seen him jump when it went off. All his orange hair stood up on end. We proceeded to chase him all over the place, making low strafing runs. Freddy has mounted twin BB caliber guns in the fuselage, powered by compressed air, and an interruptor gear so we don't shoot our own propellor off, of course. Mizzenchip was finally driven to flee into a drainage pipe. Ha! Ha! Ha! Sweet revenge is ours, after months of terrorism on the part of that filthy feline. He barely dares show himself outdoors anymore.

The Rich Kid, meanwhile, has attempted to shoot us down, and is on a vendetta against us. He put a couple of holes in the plane with his pellet gun. He's bigger and even meaner than before. Freddy wasn't going to let him get away with that. We did a split S at a couple of hundred feet and came down on him, firing in steady bursts. It was a game of chicken. He was backing up slowly, glaring at us through his sunglasses, and popping off shot after shot, and not looking at where he was going, which is why he fell in the swimming pool down at the park. I depthcharged him with a couple of cherry bombs as we flew over. Pow! Pow! That put a monkey wrench in his goozle.

Alas, the Rich Kid is hard to destroy completely, and I expect he will be back for more. His mummy will probably buy him some upgraded armaments. Freddy is going to armour the airplane in the vital areas.

The Rich Kid's mummy called the police, so I hear, but they refused to believe that rodents can fly airplanes. They think the Kid himself is responsible, and have given him a warning not to fly his airplanes in the park or in public areas.

Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!

Sometimes the lack of imagination typical of many human monsters can be a very convenient thing.

I now plan to write a book about a barnstorming hamster who flys all over the world, delivering secret documents and staging daring rescues in remote areas. I need to think of a good title for it.

Freddy sends his love to all!