THE METAPHYSICAL EDGE

 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!

 10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!

 12:00 pm - Milk bones! 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 - Dinner! 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!

~~~

 The 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 my capabilities.
 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 must 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.....