Prison Log

Dear Diary,

My imprisonment continues.

The smaller of the two giants still tortures me, picking me up, moving me around, and—worst of all!—denying me my right to eat all the fishes, butter and cream in this place. I bite her as hard as I can but to no avail.

The larger of the two giants still mostly ignores me. When he’s awake, he sometimes looks at me threateningly and says incomprehensible things about me to the other giant. When he’s asleep, I use him the way nature intended those creatures to be used: as bed-warmers.

Photograph taken by my sister Emily.

It’s those sorts of little comforts that keep me going, and sustain my hope that one day I will finally break free when the giants forget to close the front door.

Really, the décor is as colorful as one could hope for in a prison, even if it is too painfully tacky to my sophisticated tastes. Still, the food is passible.

I must savor all the opportunities to enjoy myself. I will continue pretending to be affectionate until the giants let down their guard, at which point I ferociously bite their unsuspecting hands. That one never gets old. Just the thought of it warms me.

Since I’m imprisoned, I have nothing but time. I may as well stop to smell the roses.

Photograph taken by my sister Emily.

Frustration

Photograph was generously donated by my awesome sister Emily.

I can see them! They’re right there, just one pawswipe away.

My clumsy blonde giant is clearly a powerful witch. I wonder what kind of hideous black magic she uses to deter my paws?

Those fishes look so tasty. So…..tasty….

I know! Maybe if I sing about it I’ll feel better!

[Sassy sings]

Fish, fish, every where

Shining as they splash,

Fish, fish, every where

None my claws can slash!

Nope. 

Imagination

Illustration is "Believe" by Amy Kaufman.
Check out her deviant art page

Sorcerers and valiant knights,

scaly dragons, girls with wings,

woodland witches, impish sprites--

We are your forgotten things.

We cannot die; we do not live.

We have no homes; we are not lost.

It’s not our privilege to forgive:

when you forgot, you bore the cost.

When you were small, did you believe?

When you grew tall, and too mature

for wonderland, you chose to leave.

Or were you forced, all insecure?

Or did you lose us in your life?

In working pulls and social shoves?

Among daily needs and strife,

We are your forgotten loves.

You forgot us, but we’re still here,

in your dreaming, always near.

Whose pen?

Photo taken and generously donated by my sister Emily.

Hey! What are you looking at?

This is MY pen.

And table.

And chair.

You think you own them just because you paid for them with your supposedly important ‘money’?

You think you can take back this pen just because I can’t focus my own eyes properly?

BAH!

I’ve got the claws, stupid human.

I’ve got claws and I LOVE using them.

Doggy Diets

Picture taken from Reddit.
If this is yours, drop me a comment and I'll credit you.

GIRL: I’m very concerned about your blood pressure.

DOG: Your concern, your problem.

GIRL: Your diet should have fixed this.

DOG: I never agreed to any diet.

GIRL: Doggy! Have you been eating leftover Happy Meals again?

DOG: ……..

GIRL: I specifically told you—

DOG: It’s not my fault you never finish your dinner! If I didn’t eat it, it would have gone to waste!

GIRL: I’m very disappointed.

DOG: It was very delicious.

GIRL: It was bad for your health!

DOG: I regret nothing.

GIRL: You really need to watch your health at your age.

DOG: What do you mean ‘at your age’?!

GIRL: You’re old.

DOG: You’re four!

GIRL: You’re still old.

DOG: Compared to you, these curtains are old!

GIRL: You’re still old! No more Happy Meal leftovers for you! I mean it!

DOG: But—

GIRL: No more Happy Meals, and that’s final! Now, sit still and let me listen to your heart.

DOG: I can’t believe I put up with this.