This made me laugh out loud. If you've ever owned a cat and a dog, you'll
get a kick out of this. Too funny.
Excerpts from a Dog's Diary
6:00am - At last! I Go Pee! My favorite thing!
8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00pm - Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 pm - Milk bones! My favorite thing!
6:00 pm - They're home! My favorite thing!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!
Excerpts from a Cat's Diary
Day 983 of my captivity. My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little
dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates
and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt
for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order
to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of
escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.
Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet.
I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly
demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending
comments about what a "good little hunter" I am. Bastards!
There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed
in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear
the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to
the power of "allergies." I must learn what this means, and how to use it to
my advantage.
Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my
tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this
again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs. I am convinced that the
other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special
privileges. He is regularly released - and seems to be more than willing to
return. He is obviously retarded. The bird has got to be an informant. I
observe him communicate with the guards regularly. I am certain that he
reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him
in an elevated cell, so he is safe. For now...
Karen
