Dogs vs Cats
As of today, there are already about 15,800 versions of this online. Why should I just link to one of those, when I can make a few modifications and post it, making this number 15,801?
Excerpts from a Dog’s Daily 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 - 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!
7:00 PM - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 PM - Wow! Watched TV with the humans! My favorite thing!
11:00 PM - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!
Excerpts from a Cat’s Daily Diary
Day 683 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 floor. Tomorrow I may eat another houseplant so I can vomit more easily.
Day 712:
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.
Day 737:
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, but at the top of the stairs. In another attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair. I think their bed will be next.
Day 759:
I am finally aware of how sadistic they are. For no good reason I was chosen for the water torture. This time, however, it included a burning foamy chemical they called “shampoo”. What sick minds could invent such a thing? My only consolation is the piece of thumb still stuck between my teeth.
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. Fortunately, while in confinement, I found a clean pile of clothes on which to first shed, then vomit.
But I have patience; I can wait. It is only a matter of time until I kill them and dine on their flesh.
