A Dog and Cat Diary

I have to share this email that I received quite some time ago but I keep going back to read it.

I am proudly owned by a cat (a beautiful blue spotted tabby Bengal called Indy) who will appear as the cat picture for better effect.

Excerpts from a Dog's Diary......

8:00 am - Dog food! My favourite thing!

9:30 am - A car ride! My favourite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favourite thing!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favourite thing!
12:00 pm - Lunch! My favourite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favourite thing!
3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favourite thing!
5:00 pm - Milk bones! My favourite thing!
6:00 pm - Oooh, Bath. Bummer.
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favourite thing!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favourite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favourite 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 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................