A Pet's Diary

I cribbed this off another message board because it’s funny and true!

EXCERPTS FROM A DOG’S DAILY DIARY:

8:00 am - Oh Boy! Dog food! My favourite!
9:30 am - Oh Boy! A car ride! My favourite!
9:40 am - Oh Boy! A walk! My favourite!
10:30 am - Oh Boy! A car ride! My favourite!
11:30 am - Oh Boy! Dog food! My favourite!
12:00noon - Oh Boy! The kids! My favourite!
1:00 pm - Oh Boy! The yard! My favourite!
4:00 pm - Oh Boy! The kids! My favourite!
5:00 pm - Oh Boy! Dog food! My favourite!
5:30 pm - Oh Boy! Mum! My favourite!
6:00 pm - Oh Boy! Playing ball! My favourite!
6:30 pm - Oh Boy! Sleeping in master’s bed! My favourite!

EXCERPTS FROM A CAT’S DAILY DIARY:

Day 183 of my captivity. My captors continue to taunt me with
bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat,
while I am forced to eat dry cereal. The only thing that keeps
me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisfaction I get
from ruining the occasional piece of furniture.

Tomorrow I may eat another houseplant. Today my attempt to
kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they were
walking almost succeeded - must try this at the top of the stairs.
In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I
once again induced myself to vomit on their favourite chair -
must try this on their bed. Decapitated a mouse and brought
them the headless body, in attempt to make them aware of
what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear into their hearts.
They only cooed and condescended about what a good little cat
I was.

Hmmm, not working according to plan. There was some sort of
gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in solitary throughout
the event. However, I could hear the noise and smell the food.
More importantly I overheard that my confinement was due to
MY power of “allergies”. Must learn what this is and how to use
it to my advantage.

I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches.
The dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return.
He is obviously a half-wit. The bird on the other hand has got to be an
informant, and speaks with them regularly. I am certain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the metal room, his safety
is assured. But I can wait. It is only a matter of time…

Day 183 of my captivity. My captors continue to taunt me with
bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat,
while I am forced to eat dry cereal. The only thing that keeps
me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisfaction I get
from ruining the occasional piece of furniture.
This is one of our rugs!

twenty minutes of watching Mud.

sleep. yawn. curl. uncurl. stand. strrrrrrrrretccccccchhhhh. clean hind foot. chew on toe talons. shake head*. sit up straight. run to window. chitter** at mourning dove. walk to food bowl. take dry food from bowl. drop on floor off the plastic pad. eat. crunch loudly. meow. lick butt. walk to couch. crouch. shake butt. leap. scrabble onto leather couch. walk along back of couch. jump onto computer chair. walk along back of computer chair. walk onto slideout desk panel. meow. crawl into lap. rub against me. shed. jump off lap. stttttttttttttrrrreeeeeeeeeetchhhhhhhhh. chase penny on floor. bat penny under dishwasher. stare after penny. use litterbox. look for penny. walk into living room. freeze. run down hallway making weird growl. leap onto bed. spin. lick belly. spin. run down hallway. leap onto couch. sit upright. flop onto side. curl onto back. sssssssssstretch***. nap. streeeeeetccchhhhhh. chew on front toenail. lick paw. wipe face. scratch neck. meow. shake head. jump onto coffee table. walk along coffee table. knock over box with tv remotes. jump back to couch. jump down from couch. rub against ankles. sharpen claws on rug. fall over with wump****. accept bellyrub. walk to window. push blinds out of way. stare at outside. walk to couch. leap up. curl onto back. nap.

  • collar has bell and her ears flap, so it makes a combined “jingle-whappity-whap”
    ** weird ‘meow’-ish stutter
    *** short stretch this time
    **** after being chastised for clawing rug.

Every single morning, I fall for it. After I massage her scalp and claw her eyelids open, she does that strange wobbly stagger to the door and we rush to propell her to the kitchen, and the DOOR CLOSES BEHIND US! I know now that even making The Other One run at it repeatedly head first won’t shift it once it’s made that clicking noise. He doesn’t know that, though, so I’ll just sit here and watch for a while…

Oh, I’m bored. The Other One is sleeping his headache off. I think I’ll just show him who’s boss.

Shit. Why do I always forget he’s twice as big as me? Why does he always forget I’M the boss?

Still no sound. What if she’s dead? Oh no - who’ll feed us? I think I’m going to cry. I really do. Oops, no, I’m going to throw up. Where shall I do it? The rug again? Nah, I know, just outside her door. And if I back away carefully I can make a little trail all the way into the kitchen, just so she doesn’t get lost.

Oh look, she’s up! Hurrah! We’re probably not going to starve to death today! And she’s following the trail… I know she loves us. I know everything she says to us is all about our beauty, and our intelligence, and how wonderful we are. So why does her voice sound like mine does when The Other One jumps on my head?

We love her, of course, but nobody could say she was very bright. Morning after morning, she can’t even make it in a straight line to the food cupboard. What’s more important, keeping our curvaceous figures fleshed out, or putting that stuff in a cup? And why the detour into the bathroom? It’s just a bit of vomit, for Cat’s sake!

She’s done it! She’s getting the food out! I’ll just jump up beside her to kiss her, and oops, managed to make her measure out more than she should have, hehe! I love her, I love her, she’s so gorgeous and wonderful and … oh, I’m exhausted now. I need a little nap.