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Dog and Cat Diaries, curtasy of Ruhler, a fellow tuba player cool


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!

* 10:30 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!



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 ...