Monday, January 19, 2009

Diary of a Dog vs Diary of a Cat

A friend forwarded this to me over the email, and I just had to laugh....


The Diary of a Dog

8:00am: Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30am: A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40am: A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30am: Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00pm: Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00pm: Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
2:00pm: Nap Time! My favorite thing!
3:00pm: Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00pm: Milk bones! My favorite thing!
7:00pm: Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00pm: Wow! Watched TV with my family! My favorite thing!
11:00pm: Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!*

The Diary of a Cat

It is day 683 of my captivity: My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre 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 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. The captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe....... for now.

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