Same Planet, Different Worlds…

 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. 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 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 …

:::where I got this from-my husband-who probably thinks my cat wrote it::::