IJMC - Deluge of Delightfully Domesticated Diary Discourses

For some reason, this reminds me of a song...sung to the tune of "Cat's 
Cradle"..."The cat's in the kettle at the Peking Moon, the place I went 
to lunch at noon...they say that it's beef or chicken or pork, but 
Garfield's purring on my fork...Garfield's right there purring on my 
fork..." Ahh, the joys of alternative mp3's...me, I am a dog person. I 
associate with cats just fine, but I would almost always prefer a good, 
fun, dog. Chihuahuas need not apply.                              -dave




DAY 752 - 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 ruining the occasional piece of furniture.
Tomorrow I may eat another houseplant. 


DAY 761 - 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
stairs. In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once
again induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair...next time maybe
their bed. 

DAY 762 - Slept all day so that I could annoy my captors with sleep
depriving, incessant pleas for food at ungodly hours of the night. 

DAY 765 - In an attempt to make them aware of what I am capable of, and to
strike fear into their hearts, I decapitated a mouse and brought them the
headless body. They only cooed and talked condescendingly about what a
good little cat I was.  Hmmm...not working according to plan ...... 

DAY 768 - 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 called "shampoo."  What sick minds could invent
such a liquid. My only consolation is the piece of thumb still stuck
between my teeth. 

DAY 771 - 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 foul odor of the glass tubes they call "wine."  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. 

DAY 774 - 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. He has mastered their frightful tongue (something akin to
mole speak) 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. But I can wait, it is only a matter of time.