WHAT PETS WRITE IN THEIR DIARIES
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 my people! My favorite
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!
Excerpts from a Cat's Daily 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 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.
In memory of Fuzzy
My lap is cold. He will be missed.
Contact Webmaster@Robin'sWeb with
questions or comments regarding this site.
Copyright©2009 Robin L. Olson, Robin's Web, All Rights