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Cats diary

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Excerpts from a Dog's Diary:

8:00 a.m. - Dog food! My favourite thing!

9:30 a.m. - A car ride! My favourite thing!

9:40 a.m. - A walk in the park! My favourite thing!

10:30 a.m. - Got rubbed and petted! My favourite thing!

12:00 p.m. - Lunch! My favourite thing!

1:00 p.m. - Played in the yard! My favourite thing!

3:00 p.m. - Wagged my tail! My favourite thing!

5:00 p.m. - Milk bones! My favourite thing!

7:00 p.m. - Got to play ball! My favourite thing!

8:00 p.m. - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favourite thing!

11:00 p.m. - 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. 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 that means, and how to use it to my



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.

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That's my Molly all over. I'm sure she tries to get me at the top of the stairs too, particulary first thing in the morning, when I'm not quite awake and am carrying Stefan.


We have to shut her in the kitchen at night, as she was bringing us little 'presents' into bed for us. Mice, spiders, etc.....*shudder*...and she never clears her bowl either. Fussy devil. Little did I realise. Well if she thinks she eating at the table with us.... :roll:

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and she never clears her bowl either. Fussy devil.




Tigger is the total opposite Gina! He clears his bowl (he's such a gannet, I don't even need to crush up his tablets - he swallows them whole :shock: ), then prowls the house, pushing poor Hartley out of the way, so he can finish her food as well! :lol:

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I got this e-mailed to me at work a few weeks ago and I just sat in my chair giggling away, especially the part about presents. We're lucky that we don't get mice or birds, but Moo loves to bring in caterpillars and grass hoppers. The caterpillars are fine as they just lay there but I'm sure she thinks it's a game watching us chase the grass hoppers around the front room once she's dropped them at our feet. Also we have to keep her in whe we set them free otherwise she brings them straight back in again :evil:

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