If dogs and cats kept a daily diary

If dogs and cats kept a daily diary

4a8he-500x331 If dogs and cats kept a daily diary

Excerpts from a Dog’s Diary

  • 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!

 

38B62A9400000578-3803995-image-a-115_1474633842301-500x375 If dogs and cats kept a daily diary

                                         Excerpts from a Cat’s 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 . . .

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