Excerpts from a DOG'S DAYTIMER
8:00 am - Dog food! My favourite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favourite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favourite thing!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favourite thing!
12:00 pm - Lunch! My favourite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favourite thing!
3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favourite thing!
5:00 pm - Milk bones! My favourite thing!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favourite thing!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favourite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favourite thing!
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. *******s!
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 o 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 ...
8:00 am - Dog food! My favourite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favourite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favourite thing!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favourite thing!
12:00 pm - Lunch! My favourite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favourite thing!
3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favourite thing!
5:00 pm - Milk bones! My favourite thing!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favourite thing!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favourite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favourite thing!
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. *******s!
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 o 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 ...
