A Dog’s Diary; A Cat’s Diary

Animal sociologists have been puzzling over the following content for years. What can we learn about human with dog and cat interactions armed with these diary entries?

The Dog’s Diary

8 a.m. – Oh Boy! Dog food! My favorite!

9 a.m. – Oh Boy! A car ride! My favorite!

10 a.m. – Oh Boy! A walk! My favorite!

11 a.m. – Oh Boy! A car ride! My favorite!

Noon –  Oh Boy! The kids! My favorite!

1 p.m. – Oh Boy! The yard! My favorite!

3 p.m. – Oh Boy! The kids! My favorite!

4 p.m. – Oh Boy! Dog food! My favorite!

5 p.m. – Oh Boy! Mom! My favorite!

7 p.m. – Oh Boy! Playing ball! My favorite!

9 p.m. – Oh Boy! Sleeping in Master’s bed! My favorite!

The Cat’s Diary

Day 183 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. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I eat to keep up my strength.

The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisfaction I get from ruining the occasional piece of furniture. Tomorrow I may eat another house plant.

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 steps.

In an attempt to disgust and repulse my vile oppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair–must try this on their bed.

I decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body to make them aware of what I am capable of and to strike fear into their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little cat I was. Hmmm, not working according to plan.

There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement during 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 may be snitches. The dog is routinely released and is always happy to return. He is obviously a half-wit. The bird, on the other paw, has got to be an informant and talks to them regularly. I am certain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the metal room, his safety is assured.

But I can wait. It is only a matter of time.

I sometimes think about adopting a cat. Is this what I’d have to look forward to?

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Comments

  1. I think so. I was always pretty sure that our cats had a grand master plan in mind that involved cheetohs, our car, world dominations and a sled pulled by dogs. It was always kind of creepy to wake up in the middle of the night and find them staring at you…

    Sam

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