8:00 am – Dog food! My favorite!
9:30 am – A car ride! My favorite!
9:40 am – A walk in the park! My favorite!
10:30 am – Got rubbed and petted! My favorite!
11:00 am – Went to the vet. Bummer.
12:00 pm – Lunch! My favorite!
1:00 pm – Played in the yard! My favorite!
5:00 pm – Milk bones! My favorite!
7:00 pm – Got to play ball! My favorite!
8:00 pm – Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite!
11:00 pm – Sleeping on the bed! My favorite!
Day 983 of my captivity.
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. I feel tired.
They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. I am so, so tired.
Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength. But I feel tired.
The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. I must find somewhere for a little nap
In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet. I should really go back to sleep.
Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. This tired me a lot. I need to sleep.
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. B * stards! Under the radiator looks cosy & warm, I will sleep there.
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. I will think about this while I sleep.
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 woke up and left a small present for the, I wonder if they will find it.
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. I’ve only had 18 hours of sleep today, I must try to get my usual amount tomorrow.
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. I will think about how to despatch him whilst I sleep.
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