CATatonic

Excerpts from a Dog’s Daily 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!

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 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
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 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.

(Yes, there are some days when I don’t have an original thought in my head. This is obviously one of them. =D)

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