I’m a dog person. You guys all know that. They’re sweet, lovable, and always so excited about life in general. I have friends who are die-hard cat people, always praising how amazing their felines are.
As seen in a dog’s diary:
7 am – Oh boy! A walk! My favorite!
8 am – Oh boy! Dog food! My favorite!
9 am – Oh boy! The kids! My favorite!
Noon – Oh boy! The yard! My favorite!
2 pm – Oh boy! A car ride! My favorite!
3 pm – Oh boy! The kids! My favorite!
4 pm – Oh boy! Playing ball! My favorite!
6 pm – Oh boy! Welcome home Mom! My favorite!
7 pm – Oh boy! Welcome home Dad! My favorite!
8 pm – Oh boy! Dog food! My favorite!
9 pm – Oh boy! Tummy rubs on the couch! My favorite!
11 pm – Oh boy! Sleeping in my people’s bed! My favorite!
As seen in a cat’s diary:
Day 183 of my captivity… My captors continued 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 clawing the 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 stairs. In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair – must try this on their bed.
Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body in an attempt to make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear in 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. I was placed in solitary throughout the event. However, I could hear the noise and smell the food. More important, I overheard that my confinement was due to my powers of inducing “allergies.” Must learn what this is and how to use it to my advantage.
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 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.
This is why I will always opt for the animal who’s happy to see me as opposed to the one who’s plotting my death. It’s a lot like dating, isn’t it? If your partner suddenly starts weaving between your feet…beware.