Thoughts from the Dog and the Cat

My aunt sent the following to me today in an e-mail. I love it! Thanks Aunt Vada!

Thoughts from the Dog

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!
6:00 pm - Oooh, Bath . Bummer.
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!

Thoughts from the Cat

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 an idiot.

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.................