The Winnder

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 the people! My favorite thing!

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.

Jerks!!

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. For now................