Letter #5

Dear Reader,

Much time has passed. I have a neighbor. One evening I woke to find that a wall was cutting my territory short. On the other side is a dwarf Hamster that They said was rescued from a Flea Market. When I lived in the Shop, I heard Pets come in asking how they could get rid of fleas, so a Flea Market must be a place where unwanted creatures are given away. I don't blame the Pets who abandoned him. He is awfully nervous, even for a dwarf, and he darts to and fro like a hysterical goldfish.

He is convinced that my Pets intend to harm him, even though I have explained that, although they do maul one a bit, they are essentially benign - and, more importantly, provide some truly interesting food. However, if they put a paw anywhere near him, he takes a swipe at it and runs for cover. The Pets call him Sammy, which is what I must call him, too, as he doesn't remember his real name.

I have tried to talk with him, but what Mother said is true: You can't hold a sensible conversation with a dwarf. They can't hang on to a thought long enough to remember where they are going with it or what they are going to do with it once they get there.

Sammy has been given my old wheel and my hut with the tower. I don't mind at all. I observed that these things were made of peculiar materials that shrank after a while. Why that should be so is still a mystery to me. By the time my wheel and tube were given away, I found them quite snug. I hope my roomy new wheel will shrink more slowly.

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