Dog and Cat Diaries
The Diary of a Dog
8:00am Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30am A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40am A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30am Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00pm Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00pm Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00pm Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00pm Milk bones! My favorite thing!
6:00pm Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00pm Wow! Watched TV with my family! My favorite thing!
11:00pm Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!
The Diary of a Cat
It is day 683 of my captivity: My captors continue to taunt me with
bizarre dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the
other inmates and myself are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets.
Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I never the
less 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 vomit on the floor.
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. The
audacity! 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 communicating with
the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. The
captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so
he is safe, for now.
8:00am Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30am A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40am A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30am Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00pm Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00pm Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00pm Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00pm Milk bones! My favorite thing!
6:00pm Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00pm Wow! Watched TV with my family! My favorite thing!
11:00pm Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!
The Diary of a Cat
It is day 683 of my captivity: My captors continue to taunt me with
bizarre dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the
other inmates and myself are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets.
Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I never the
less 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 vomit on the floor.
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. The
audacity! 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 communicating with
the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. The
captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so
he is safe, for now.