OT - A dog's diary, etc.

[Frank Olson <use_the_email_links@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx>]

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!
10:30am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00pm - 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 - They're home! 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 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...



--
My wife says women are angels.  And even when us guys manage to clip
their wings, they'll keep right on flying...  on their broomsticks.