Mom's dear friend Pat sent her this message in the context of an email fully aware that I am keeping a diary of sorts on my blog. I'm publishing this email as a public service announcement: They're on to us!
My Diary -- The Dog:
0800 ... Dog food! My favorite thing!
0930 ... A car ride! My favorite thing!
0940 ... A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
1030 ... Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
1200 ... Lunch! My favorite thing!
1300 ... Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
1500 ... Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
1700 ... Milk Bones®! My favorite thing!
1900 ... Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
2000 ... Wow! Watched TV with my master! My favorite thing!
2300 ... Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!
Excerpts from a Cat's Daily Diary:
Day 683 of my captivity: My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and myself are fed hash or some sort of dry kibbles. 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 blow chunks on the floor.
Day 684: 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. The audacity!!!
Day 685: My captors assembled some 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.
Day 686: Today, I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around her feet as she was walking. I must try this again tomorrow ... but at the top of the stairs.
Day 687: 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 on my every move. The captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell. So, he is safe ... for now ... Bwah, ha, haaaaaa!