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From another forum i frequent...

From a Dog's Diary</font></font></font>


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8:00 am - Dog food! My favourite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favourite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favourite thing!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favourite thing!
12:00 pm - Lunch! My favourite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favourite thing!
3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favourite thing!
5:00 pm - Milk bones! My favourite thing!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favourite thing!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favourite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favourite thing!</font></font></font>



From a Cat's Diary
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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. b*****ds.


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... Will keep you posted.</font></font></font>
 

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Love it, Im sure our 2 cats & our Beagle have been spilling the beans!
 

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I got this on a email years ago, still made me laugh
 

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My name is Milo and I am a three year old ginger tom, just like my old man, who also has ginger hair, but his is receeding at the front of his head and he has a few grey hairs starting to show at the sides.

I am a very lucky cat really, cos my mum feeds me with Sheba and Gourmet cat food, which I love. I also get treats in the form of long sticks, which my dad and mum sometimes give me.


They always leave the kitchen window open for me, so I can go in and out any time I please, but I spend many hours just sat on the window sill, because there is a black and white tom, who sometimes sneaks in and pinches my food.
I just chase him off and sometimes we have a scrap. I took a chunk out of his ear a few weeks ago, so he doesn't come in my garden any more.

We have a pond in our garden and I spend hours watching the goldfish, but I have never caught one yet.

There are some mice under our shed and I have caught quite a few of them, mostly after dark and I always take them into the house to show my mum how clever I am,
much to her disgust.


The best laugh I had was when I brought a toad in one night, and my mum shouted at me cos I placed it on their bed whilst they were watching telly.


When my mum and dad go on holiday, they take me to some place miles away inside a plastic basket and I don't like having to go in there. Then they put me on the back seat of the car and take me to this place where I am locked up in a big cage until they come for me about a week later.
I hate this place, although the people there are nice and they always make a fuss of me.
The grub isn't as good as I get at home, but at least I get three good meals a day and they sometimes let me out into a larger pen, where I can run about for a while.


I really love my mum and dad
because they always let me sit between them on the settee when they are watching telly, so I just cuddle up and have a little sleep.
There is a nasty little dog next door which is always barking,
but apart from that. I am very happy.
 

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Mr Rat goes into a pub.

Landlord says "What's your poison, Mr Rat?".

Mr Rat replies "Double Warfarin, on the rocks."

Landlord says "Coming right up. Sounds like you need it."

Mr Rat says "You're not kidding. I've had a dreadful day.

First the missus says she's up the stick, again.

That's the eighth time this year, and the blooming brats are wall to wall.

You'd think she'd have had enough of them by now, but no, she's at it again.

The noise those kids make has to be heard to be believed, talk about Public Squeaking, anyone would think they'd been to Squealocution Lessons.

And then the boss wants more drug tests doing.

He wasn't well pleased when I told him I wasn't going to be his Guinea Pig anymore, and to get a Capybara in, they have substantially-equivalent rodential potential, aren't picky eaters and last longer."

The Landlord sighed, and handed Mr Rat his drink. He'd already had Mr Horse and Mrs Panda in earlier so third time lucky he asked :

"Why the long tail?"
 

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acrorat said:
Mr Rat goes into a pub.

Landlord says "What's your poison, Mr Rat?".

Mr Rat replies "Double Warfarin, on the rocks."

Landlord says "Coming right up. Sounds like you need it."

Mr Rat says "You're not kidding. I've had a dreadful day.

First the missus says she's up the stick, again.

That's the eighth time this year, and the blooming brats are wall to wall.

You'd think she'd have had enough of them by now, but no, she's at it again.

The noise those kids make has to be heard to be believed, talk about Public Squeaking, anyone would think they'd been to Squealocution Lessons.

And then the boss wants more drug tests doing.

He wasn't well pleased when I told him I wasn't going to be his Guinea Pig anymore, and to get a Capybara in, they have substantially-equivalent rodential potential, aren't picky eaters and last longer."

The Landlord sighed, and handed Mr Rat his drink. He'd already had Mr Horse and Mrs Panda in earlier so third time lucky he asked :

"Why the long tail?"
I knew you'd be able to come up with something, A.
 
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