Skip to main content

What They're Really Saying

A friend sent an email to me yesterday showing the contrast between the daily diary of a dog and one of a cat. The dog is happy with everything and eager to please. The cat, on the other hand...well, you'll see. And here is big fat Mike to demonstrate how the cute meow is not so cute when you know what it really means.



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 communicating 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................

Comments

dive said…
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh …
Mike is SO CUTE!!!!!
He's just jealous of your fabulous shoes, Robyn.
Brenda said…
This reminds me of my husband's description of the difference between dogs and cats: A dog, describing his owners, says, "These people take care of me, feed me and provide me shelter. They must be gods." The cat, however, says, "These people take care of me, feed me and provide me shelter. , I , must be a god!"
Funny!!! Woof!!!
Maria said…
I've never been a pet person until we got our dog, Socks. Up until him, I always thought cats seemed so aloof and condescending and dogs always seemed so...lopey and eager. I always thought that dogs were like Gomer Pyle and cats were like Greta Garbo.

Then, of course, Socks arrived and now I find myself doing things I never thought myself capable of, like talking to him and worrying about his feelings...
Alifan said…
Oh Robyn, I needed a good grin as have been rather busy of late with relatives......
It sounds just like Oscar (ask Dive)he is always saying what a strange noise he makes,... the cat not Dive!!!!!
Shan said…
Well, I've heard tale of his problem tail before but that kitty's face is scrumptious! I love his quiet little squawk. He could simply never have said all of that angry stuff. I do think that's exactly what my brother's cat (who's living with my m & d) says though. She has the most HIDEOUS meow I've heard. It is SOOO loud, and she starts in on the murderous conniving at about 5:00 in the a.m. OY VEY!

Popular posts from this blog

No More Mr. Nice Guy

It's good to be a nice person--to say nice things, to do nice things, to write nice things--but I declare an end to the use of the word nice. Nice is what you say when you can't think of any other adjective. Someone shows you a picture of their back yard--that's nice. Someone tells you about their afternoon adventure--that's nice. Or someone describes their childhood in great detail and sometimes with painstaking effort--that's nice. It's a lazy word, and it's non-descriptive. Nice is like mashed potatoes with noodles and chicken gravy all in a big pile on one plate with some canned corn for garnish. Everything is the same color and texture and base substance--starch (this is a favorite Amish dish). Nice is like a partly cloudy day in April when outside feels like inside, and you can't tell a difference between the lighting and the temperature of your living room and the lighting and temperature of your front yard. Nice is a glass of lukewarm water. ...

An Offending Pile

So, I'm standing in my living room letting my mind wander for a minute or two as I stare out the window and watch the day go by, and I see my neighbors walking their dogs down the street. They are nice neighbors who are always friendly and responsible with their property. That is to say they aren't like the other neighbors who heap rubbish behind their house like Ma and Pa Kettle and let their dogs bark for thirty minutes at a time . Anyway, I see the nice people walking their dogs, a big golden retriever who is as sweet as can be and as dumb as a post—he once ate a sock and nearly died before it was surgically removed—and a new golden retriever puppy. Then I see Neighbor Wife suddenly run down the street with the big dog. Then I see Neighbor Husband stopped in front of my house with the puppy on its leash. And then I see the puppy taking a huge dump in my grass. Let me tell you, that is not done in this town unless the dog owner has a plastic bag handy and is ready to pick up ...

Am I Stupid, or What?

In two weeks, I will climb up into a charter bus, take my assigned seat, and ride 22 hours straight to Orlando, Florida. I will be a chaperon with the high school marching band, which will perform at Disney's Magic Kingdom--me and 180 people on four big buses for seven days. We will travel together, eat together, play together, fall down exhausted together--and after 22 hours, I suspect stink to high heaven together. Because of the crazy schedule, we will leave Ohio at 6 pm, travel all night and most of the next day, and spend several hours at MGM Studios before ending up at the hotel sometime after 7 pm. After I check in with the eight girls I am to supervise, I intend to shower and shower and shower. I intend to wear clean clothes and socks and brush my teeth until my toothbrush wears out. Of all the things I could be concerned about on this trip, being dirty seems to weigh heaviest on my mind. One of my eight charges could run off and do bad things with her boyfriend, but I'...