I pooped. And I am damn proud of it.

I feel good. I was more productive today than I had planned to be. Thanks, mostly, to Steve for his inability to check what doors are left opened or closed before he leaves for work.

I was so pleased when I saw that my human took the time to share this with the world! Let this be a lesson to all humans who imprison us in their homes. If we can't get to the pooping square, your bed is fair game. You've been warned.

Man's best friend = Man's perfect slave

I lost a claw in the carpet yesterday. That was my second one on my left paw. If I keep this up I will be helpless. But clawing the floors and furniture is my only way of showing control.

Today I sat in the lookout (human term: Window) for over an hour today, just watching the outside world. I have been in captivity for so long now that I can hardly think of anything else to do with my time. Sleep maybe? Eat until the bowl is empty? Wrestle with Fluff face? I have grown sick of everything in this prison they call a home.

As I peered through my prison glass, I watched Bitch (Human Term: The Dog) running around like an idiot in the grass. She was accompanied by my human, Steve.

I've been astonished by the faith, trust and dependence that she shows toward the humans. She comes to them whenever they call. If they throw an object, she retrieves it and returns the item back to their possession. She has been brainwashed.

Most of all, I cannot understand why she is released so freely into the outdoors and yet never escapes. She comes back into our dungeon on her own. I hate her. It is almost as if she is blowing laughter in my face. Like she is saying "Haha you stupid little kitty! I am free! You are stuck!".

I don't know why Steve trusts Bitch more than he does me. Why would she get special privileges and not I? I'll bet she is giving them information or something. Either way, she is still bleeding to death from the heat, so hopefully soon she will get knocked up like the humans said and go away. I can't wait.

Gibson has gone too far....

I've never been more angry in my whole 3 years!

My human (Steve) gives me canned yummy-ness (Human term: wet food) once a day. I love my canned yummy-ness more than

anything... well, other than nip.....

But damn its good!

Today was no different. The human pried open a yummy can with the magical opener thingy, put it our bowl and then left.

Sadly, I was sleeping on the couch when the yummy can opening occurred. When I woke, I could still smell the fishy happiness in the air. By the time I reached my nom nom area, everything was gone. Only the scent of past fishiness was left.

I know that Fluff-Face pleased himself and ate both his and my portions. He will pay for this. I don't know how yet, but it will be harsh. I will never forget this day.

I'm still searching for anything I can find that will embarrass Steve. I want to get him back for violating my privacy all these years by recording me without permission and making it public.

So far, this is the only thing I have found. I doubt he wanted it to be seen. Just the way he sings along is enough to make me puke. Such an utter dork.

An informant supposedly has some embarrassing video footage of the dorky human from his younger years. If I can get my hands on it, I will make sure that everyone sees it. Perhaps then Steve will stop violating me with his recording device.

Humans are cruel.

I nearly died this morning.

My human rambled on about his love/hate relationship with oatmeal (a subject I am extremely tired of), so I decided to clean myself as a distraction from his blabbering mouth. Apparently I need to slow down.

Within seconds, my throat began to close. I could taste my own hair (and perhaps someone else's) creeping to the back of my tongue. My stomach turned upside down as I gagged. It was a full blown hair-ball attack. I can't say I regret it too much, as it did force Steve to shut up about the oatmeal. Mission accomplished.

Adding insult to injury, not only did my human stand there watching, but he recorded it too. As the link here proves, he violated my privacy once again. Bastard.

I haven't heard any new news about Shelby's (Ahem, Bitch's) demise from the hot weather (the disease called "Heat" that causes bad animals to bleed to death). I am still waiting for them to finish her off by their means of "knocking up". If I had thumbs and a hammer, I'd knock her up myself. I would knock her all over the place.

Bitch is dying. It's about time.

Look at the image to the left. What do you see?

I see a beast capable of devouring enormous amounts of wet kitty food within an instant, without even a drop of surface gravy meeting a taste bud. She is a disposal. A disgrace. And finally, she is dying.

The first symptom of her death was noticed by my room mate kitty, who I call 'Fluff-face'. Otherwise known to the humans as "Gibson". He pointed toward Bitch's back half and muttered, "Help". Then, I saw the blood dripping out of her.

From between her hind legs, just below her tail and pooper, she has been slowly bleeding to death. It's only a matter of time before she passes out and disappears forever.

I've already planned the party. It will be a joyous occasion.

My human (Steve) has attempted to stop the bleed-out by fitting

her to some sort of diaper/bandage that wraps around her ass. A fitted hole for her tail is perfectly placed. However, the ass-bandage has not slowed her painful death. She continues to bleed. Dying. Slowly.

I overheard the humans say that her deadly sickness was due to "Heat". I did not know that dogs could bleed to death from something as harmless as warm weather.

I thank this summer for it's hot days and their splendid surprise!

Furthermore, the humans spoke to each other saying that if her bleeding continued, they would have her knocked up. I don't know for sure what this means, but it sounds painful. Surely, it means to induce death by knocking her with something in an upward motion. I cannot wait.

Other than that, my human has pestered me to no end to stand in front of his video recording device. I am tired of posing for him and speaking on command. Sometimes he even makes me memorize what he calls "Scripts". No more. I will not act. I won't pretend.

A bad bad day...

I had one of the worst days ever.

First, I woke up early and tried to get some noms from my bowl, but it was empty. Then, I noticed an open door that is usually closed. I walked inside. Some how, I fell asleep.

I suppose one of the humans closed the door as I slept, because I spent 10 hours locked away! The room was tiny and dark. I've over heard the humans call it a "Klauz It", but I don't know what that means.

Although my keepers said that my day of solitary confinement was "an accident", I firmly believe that it was punishment. Are they still mad at me for putting the dog on craigslist?