Dog vs Cat Diaries

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*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…

Thanks to EG!!

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About mtriggs

My wife says I was "born old." Well, maybe. After a rough-in-places life, I've reached the point I think I can expound from time to time. So I will. Born in St. Louis, raised in Decatur Ga. Married disasterously, divorced, married to #2 - successfully now for 30 years. Converted to Orthodox Christianity - member of the Russian Orthodox Church Outside of Russia. May post something about that later. Children - 3 - not bio, but they are mine and I love 'em. Grandkids - 10 or 11 or 12 or something. Only 1 girl among 'em. Need more girls, but the kids are "through" reproducing. Hobbies - woodworking, woodturning. Like to listen to classical music. Politically EXTREMELY conservative in the true sense of the word. I seem to say "Harumph" a lot more than I used to...

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