Dog and Cat Diary

Someone sent this to me. No author was credited, but I think it's funny as hell. DocTor

A Dog’s Diary
8:00 a.m. Oh, boy! Dog food! My favorite!
9:30 a.m. Wow! A car ride! This is a blast!
9:40 a.m. Got to go to the park! Rolled in some really nasty stuff, was so proud of myself. Humans were less than impressed.
10:30 a.m. Got my tummy rubbed and petted -- I'm in love!
12:00 p.m. Lunch: yummy!
1:00 p.m. Played in the yard: I loved it!
3:00 p.m. Stared adoringly at my masters ... they're the best!
4:00 p.m. Hooray! The kids got home! I was so happy I was bouncing off the walls! 5:00 p.m. Milk bones -- awesome!
7:00 p.m. Got to play ball! What a day, this was too good to be true!
8:00 p.m. Wow: watching TV with my master! Heavenly!

A Cat’s 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 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 vomited 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 noise and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to my 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 he seems 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. But I can wait. It is only a matter of time...