I thought this was pretty funny. Hope You enjoy it too.
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. Got to go to the park! Rolled in some dirt, was so proud of myself. Humans were less than impressed.
10:30 a.m. Got my tummy rubbed and petted — I’m in love!
12:00 p.m. Lunch: yummy!
1:00 p.m. Played in the yard: I loved it!
3:00 p.m. Stared adoringly at my masters … they’re the best!
4:00 p.m. Hooray! The kids got home! I was so happy I was bouncing off the walls!
5:00 p.m. Milkbones — awesome!
7:00 p.m. Got to play ball! What a day, this was too good to be true!
8:00 p.m. Wow: watching TV with my master! Heavenly!
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…