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!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 pm - 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 Daily 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.. :twisted:
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!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 pm - 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 Daily 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.. :twisted:
