July 5, 2011

by Beth

This goes around the internet periodically, but never fails to make me giggle a bit (having owned not only dogs, but also having been responsible for cats). You do know that dogs have owners, but cats have staff, right?

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 not very smart.

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…………….

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About the Author

Beth

Marathoner (hey! I did complete the Nashville Rock'n'Roll Marathon! -- never again!), peregrino (Via Frances, Camino de Santiago de Compostela 2013), techie behind famvin.org for over 20 years now, mother to David, Marie and Daniel, Mémère to Lily, Ella, Genevieve, Henry, Avery, Luke and Claire, Catholic Christian (when I get frustrated and want to leave the RC I find myself asking "But where would I go?"), Auburn Tiger (War Eagle!), retired from Auburn University Libraries, and after 44 years, I'm still married to JP.

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