Cat & Dog Diary

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EXCERPTS FROM A DOG'S DAILY DIARY:

 8:00 a.m. Oh, boy! Dog food! My favorite!
 9:30 a.m. Wow! A car ride! This is a blast!
 9:40 a.m. A walk in the park! Ate some crap... Delicious!
10:30 a.m. Getting rubbed and petted! I'm in love!
12:00 p.m. Lunch! Yummy!
 1:00 p.m. Playing in the yard! I just love it!
 3:00 p.m. Staring adoringly at my masters...they're the best! I'll wag my tail in joy.
 4:00 p.m. Hooray! The kids are home! I'm bouncing off the walls!
 5:00 p.m. Milkbones! Great!
 7:00 p.m. Get to play ball! This is too good to be true!
 8:00 p.m. Wow! Watching TV with my master! Heavenly!
11:00 p.m. Sleeping at the bottom of my master's bed! Life is soooooooo great!


EXCERPTS FROM A CAT'S DAILY DIARY:

Day 683 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 vomited 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
noise and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to my 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 he seems 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. But I can wait.

It is only a matter of time.