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P & I have concluded that a fitting metaphor for the rather masochistic state of being married to me, is sort of like taking in a (feral?) cat.
As all animal lovers know, cats may love & adore you deeply and even defend you tooth and claw, but one never really actually "owns" a cat. Who knows if one ever really owns a person either for that matter. I am sure the frazzled parents of toddlers would have something to say about that…
Who would want slobbering, canine, devotion from their partners anyways?
P sent me the "Our Pet’s Diary" e-mail the other morn-which I believe came from Hayley. At any rate, I imagine many of you will see your domestic animal companions (or human ones) reflected…
*Excerpts from a Dog’s Diary*
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 - Lunch! 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 - Milk bones! My favorite thing!
6:00 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!
*Excerpts from a 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 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
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.
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People should read this.
Chava 10.28.08 @ 4:41 pm