Kurt's Thoughts

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.