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 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 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 . . .

__________________


Just because nobody complains doesn't mean all parachutes are perfect.

__________________

Nona Manis.. finding out where I belong

O.A. I was meant 2 luv u..