April 25, 2000 was the most terrible day of my life so far. Brenda brought this little creature she calls my "Baby Brother" when she came home from work. She didn't even ask me or tell me she was going to do this. It was a sudden decision, and if you ask me, a mistake. She found out about the kitten at work, went to see him, called Richard, called the apartment manager, and within thirty minutes, she was bringing him home to live with us. His name is Patches, or as Richard often calls him, Patch. He seems to have a hundred other names, though, like Cutie Pie, Sweetie Pie, Little Bit, Sweet Thing, just to name a few.

The first few days I growled and hissed whenever I was around him. It's three weeks later now, and I still don't like him much. He tries to "play" really rough when I'm around him-- reaches out to scratch me, so I fight back. If he keeps it up, I get him down on the floor, and Richard and Brenda are afraid I'm going to bite him, so they separate us. I get put in the back of the apartment-- bedrooms, bathroom, hall-- over and over again.

Little Patch has taken over the living room and kitchen, and Richard and Brenda's bedroom at night. He even sleeps with them (that was something I didn't do much of, even from the beginning). He sits as close to Richard as he can all day long, and he cries if Richard gets up.

Things were just getting good before. I had about stopped scratching and biting Richard and Brenda. I had stopped going to bed until it was bedtime, and I sat on the couch with Richard most of the day, and watched TV with the two of them at night. After midnight-- maybe two, three, four o'clock, I still woke up and cried some, so Brenda would get up with me in the living room/kitchen, and feed me a little bit.

But now, I will refuse to go to bed, even though Brenda cleaned out the back bedroom and gave it to me as my own room. I have to stay there most of the day, so at night when they take Patches to bed, I'm staying up. I will sleep on the big chair in the living room, but not back in my bed in my room. Sometimes Brenda tries to trick me into going back there sometimes-- takes me back there even, but I won't stay long. I will scratch at their bedroom door and cry until Brenda gets up with me again.

Brenda keeps saying it will all change soon. She thinks I'll start getting along with Patch. I might if he would just stop fighting with me. Richard and Brenda both say he's just trying to play with me, but I call it fighting, and I will win every fight. If anyone is going to change, it will have to be Patches. It won't be easy for me to accept him, because he's taken so much from me, but if he will just calm down and stop "playing" rough, maybe I can.

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