Thursday, April 24, 2014

Dog and cat diaries

 Excerpts from a Dog's Diary

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!
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...

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