Excerpts from a Dog's diary... | |
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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 diary... |
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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 communicating 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... |