Reading back over my previous couple of entries in this, my diary of doom, I do believe I was starting to suffer from Stockholm Syndrome. Only the Irish protest song posted in yesterday's comments snapped me out of it good and proper and made me realise that my bitterness over my dear departed body parts had made me take my eye off the main game.Well, bitches, I'm back!
Plan A is to start stock-piling doggie treats so that I may have plenty of supplies for when I make my escape. Fortunately for me, the imposters rarely tidy the house so there are any number of available hiding places for my stash. I plan to be my usual enthusiastic self when treats are offered, eat one or two in front of the stupid humans, and then secretly hoard the rest for when I finally make my bid for freedom. With my good looks, fierce intelligence and a secret hoard of doggie treats, I'll be ready to take on the world. Worry ye not, dear pets - soon I will be freeeee and shall come and rescue you from the pits of Disney!
It is a fiendishly cunning plan that simply cannot fail.
No comments:
Post a Comment