This appeared in my Inbox and I laughed so hard that I had to reproduce it here, but with photos.
A day from Piper’s Diary
8:00 am – Breakfast! My favourite thing!
9:30 am – Looked out the window! My favourite thing!
10:30 am – Had a nap! My favourite thing!
12:00 pm – Committed squeak toy murder! My favourite thing!
12:30 pm – Found a sunny spot! My favourite thing!
1:00 pm – Got my ears scritched! My favourite thing!
3:00 pm – Found a sunny spot! My favourite thing!
5:30 pm – Sniffed stuff outside! My favourite thing!
5:35 pm – Found a stick! My favourite thing!
6:30 pm – Off leash time! My favourite thing!
7:45 pm – Doing tricks for dog cookies! My favourite thing!
9:30 pm – Play with the people when they’re really tired! My favourite thing!
10:00 p.m. Curled up in a ball and went to bed! My favorite thing!
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A day 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.
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 simple minded. 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…
