This time out Joyce Stranger's English countryside romp with the animals features Kym, the vociferous Oriental despot who seems to be the kind of cat that flourishes among people who rejoice in the tyranny of their pets. The sounds of Kym's impressive larynx--""he bellowed,"" ""he screamed,"" ""he wailed rather like a miniature air-raid siren""--are fondly paraphrased by his mistress, and it's quickly apparent that Kym had no sooner arrived when he sank his claws into her heart. He also sank his teeth into her ankles when impatient to be fed, rode her shoulder and climbed her leg, much to the detriment of her stockings. Kym's many scrapes are told with the usual embellishments doting parents add to the precocious misdeeds of their children. Who could fail to wince in recognition at: (1) the cat marooned in the tree; (2) the cat and the fish in aspic; (3) the cat and the beagle; (4) the cat at the vet. Who could fail to wince?