Monday, February 25, 2008

In honor of Ming Ming

We received our new Siamese cat, Ming Ming, last Tuesday. The house was newly invaded by the flu virus and still I had to travel to the airport to meet her plane. She traveled from Boston and my mother' arms to Mississippi. She is a very sweet cat. She has recently been released from the laundry room for longer periods of time and is continually heard crying if she loses sight of me or finds herself in a new part of the house.

Doc has tried to terrorize her by pouncing upon the bed where she lay. But Ming Ming is not timid and came right back into the room after her dash down the hall. Doc apologized and said he could not help it. He sees a cat and feels the need to take them down a peg or two. I opened my email this morning and found the Diary of a Cat from Doc. I am sure that this "diary" only confirms Doc's suspicions about the feline species.


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!

They continue to pick me up and handle me, an obvious attempt to subvert me.

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.

Tonight I will again lay on their heads while they sleep and hope to smother them.


Elysa said...

You realize don't you, that this is the same man who as a young teen used to draw bloody looking marks on my white cat Tiffany with a Sharpie pen? He also frequently used her as a football much to my horror...and all, I think, because he just liked to torment his sister.

I know, I know, he seems like such a GENTLE soul on the surface.

Elysa said...

P.S. Welcome back from the dead and to the bloggy world. I've definitely missed you!!!!!

You are not allowed ever to get sick again if it means you're going to quit posting.

Elysa said...

So are you sick again? You know, you've spoiled me. I've gotten used to reading your great posts and hearing about your world and what's going on with the fam and now I'm missing your regular updates. I know, I know...quit whining and complaining.