I received this in an email and it made me laugh so hard I had to share. I have made slight modifications to fit Buster. We don’t actually have a bird, but it was funny so I kept it in.
Day 93 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 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 tear at the fancy couch pillows when no one is looking.
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 small captors with the high-pitched squeals try to torture me by squeezing me and attempting to stuff me into doll furniture. I will not let them break me. The dogs receive special privileges. They are regularly released – and seem to be more than willing to return. They are obviously mentally challenged. 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