What follows is a diary of a cow on a cattle ranch. The diary documents every day the cow lived, but since many of the days contain similar activities, only relevant excerpts are shown here:
June 5, 1989:
I stood around in a field today.
April 12, 1993:
I chewed the grass too deep and accidentally swallowed a rock. I sure am a dumb animal.
April 25, 1998:
It rained this afternoon while we were out in the field. There was a small tin roof covering a portion of the field, but we're too fucking stupid to eat under its cover. Instead, we opted to stand in pouring rain and emit loud moos every time we heard thunder because loud natural sounds that we've heard all our lives still frighten us.
March 16, 2002:
I spelled the word "intangable" wrong in this sentence.
July 9, 2003:
It's my birthday today. A couple of guys from the field chipped in and got me dirt.
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 l avishly 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 advanta ge.
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.
dimanche 03 février 2008, 20:13
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