what ELSE is going on?

[BTFLCHLD]

Excerpts from a Dog's Diary

6:00 am - At last! I Go Pee!
My favorite thing!

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 favorite thing!

6:00 pm - They're home!
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!



Excerpts from a 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 what I am capable of.

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 has got to 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 . . .