Dog’* 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!


Cat’* 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.

hahahahaha that'* funny. good one!

That'* friggin hilarious!

It'* also true.....I was a cat butler once...never again!

I own a cat as a pet, he doesn't own me.

That'* the problem with most people, they don't train their cat. Meanwhile if it were a dog they have to because otherwise it'* crapping all over the house.

Personally I've always felt the problems were with the owners.

So..you've called me an elder today ad now you're saying that my being a cat butler is my fault? Who pee'd in your Wheaties this morning and why am I being targeted as the one to receive your pimp-slaps?

I love dogs so much and cats are okay to visit. I was the bonnevilla the and the cat stared me down through the door as if to . "I'm getting outside no matter what you do"

Ask Bill about the "Cat from Hell" that I personally captured at the Bonnevilla and helped him into the vehicle used to remove him from the premises Kevin.

I love my cats and dogs, but see some of the clear differences shown in the joke.

Fuzzy wanted to go out and he knows it'* not my job to be his butler. He goes when he can and hopes for an opening when his balls are freezing off.

Kev... I dunno man. I didn't realize you were a cat guy. All I ever saw was the post about the dog. Plus..you seem more like me, a guy who doesn't let a critter than can't walk on two feet rule their life.

There'* the problem Bill...your cat still has balls! Take the balls off and the cat'* wandering days are all but over! Kinda like getting married

Nice analogy Kevin. I'll have to remember that one.