The truth about Cats and Dogs
Someone posted this on a roleplaying board I frequent, and I had to reproduce it here for my own amusement. Being an former of a dog, and current owner of five and a half cats (half cat is a stray we’ve adopted due to his parents leaving home and him behind).
A DOG’S DAILY DIARY
8:00 AM — Oh Boy! Dog food! My favorite!
9:30 AM — Oh Boy! A car ride! My favorite!
9:40 AM — Oh Boy! A walk! My favorite!
10:30 AM — Oh Boy! A car ride! My favorite!
11:30 AM — Oh Boy! Dog food! My favorite!
Noon — Oh Boy! The kids! My favorite!
1:00 PM — Oh Boy! The yard! My favorite!
4:00 PM — Oh Boy! The kids! My favorite!
5:00 PM — Oh Boy! Dog food! My favorite!
5:30 PM — Oh Boy! It’s Mommy! My favorite!
6:00 PM — Oh Boy! Playing ball! My favorite!
6:30 PM — Oh Boy! Sleeping in my master’s bed! My favorite!
A CAT’S DAILY DIARY
Day 687 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 destroying 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 favorite 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 strike fear into their hearts. They only cooed condescendingly about what a good little cat I was. Hmmmm, 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.
I can wait. It is only a matter of time…