"Excerpts from a Dog's 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!

  10:3 0am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!

  12:00pm - 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 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.. .