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Dog's Diary vs. Cat's Diary
Excerpts from a Dog's Diary
- 6:00am - At last! I Go Pee! My favorite thing!
- 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!
- 10:30am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
- 12:00pm - 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!
- 6:00 pm - They're home! 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 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.
- Day 984 of my captivity.
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.
- Day 985 of my captivity.
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...
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