This has made the email rounds
a few times,
but it's still worth a chuckle.
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 favourite thing!
 6:00 pm - Oooh, Bath. Bummer.
 
 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 Daily  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.
 
 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................
Thursday, February 25, 2010
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