Watch over me

Some days are just worse than others and some days are just better than others. It's the way it is. The only thing one can do about it is to accept it. Yesterday I found mold in the kitchen ceiling. I'm fairly sure it comes from one of the neighbouring appartments which sprung a leak in the bathroom a while ago, but I sort of wished it would stay hell away from my kitchen. I know that it's a new infestation since I repainted the kitchen last year and saw nothing then. And now of course I worry about the fact that it'll spread, take over my whole kitchen and turn it into a swamp where an evil monster reign from the fridge. It's more than possible, you know - I've seen it happen.
Anyway, I decided to just accept it. For now. The mold is there, it won't go away and I'll have my parents over to check on it this weekend. Until then I'm gonna enjoy Mr. English, the weather and the fact that I don't own a cat. (I don't know where this originated, but it's damn funny! Been looking for it for years. Or well - wanting to read it again, if I'd been looking I would've found it by now.)

The 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 - Milk bones! 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 - Dinner! 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!

The 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 my capabilities. 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 must be an informant. I observe him communicate 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 ...