Cats and Dogs

Once or twice in semi-jest I have said that if we were pets,  I would be a cat.

Imagine my laughter when I came across this little ditty (shared with me by one of my bloggie buddies - (Thanks for the laugh Ali!) - original author unknown).

I couldn't resist passing this on...


Excerpts from a Dog's Diary:
6:00am - At last! I go pee! My favorite thing!
8:00am - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30am- Got rubbed and petted!
12:00pm- Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00pm - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
5:00pm - Milk bones! My favorite thing!
6:00pm - They're home! My favorite thing!
7:00pm - Played ball with them! My favorite thing!
8:00pm -Watched tv with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00pm- 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 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 to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is 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 it at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of.

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. There was some talk of the power of "allergies". I must learn of this and use it to my advantage.

Today I was almost successful in assassinating 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 the other inmates 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 he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe...for now...