"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!

10:30am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!

12:00pm - 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...