Lazy Post

I'm tired. Here's a lazy post for all to enjoy.

DOG DIARY

8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite!
11:00 am - Went to the vet. Bummer.
12:00 pm - Lunch! My favorite!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favorite!
5:00 pm - Milk bones! My favorite!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favorite!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with people! My favorite!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite!



CAT 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...

Snickers: 1994-2007

You got in my trash and my dirty laundry, you ate things off the floor and your flatulence could part the Red Sea. You snored and snorted, you looked like a pig or a stuffed sausage. And yet, you were our dog, and we loved you nonetheless.