Pooch Cafe by Paul Gilligan for July 25, 2004

Transcript:

Diary entry, July 25. Breakfast: kibble, 96 pieces. Weight: no clue. Barked at mailman again today. Is it my imagination, or does he not take me seriously? On walkies we ran into Mr.s Libbitz and her, ahem, "schnauzer." Leshes got tangled. If that guy's a purebred I'll eat medicine. Tried to figure out if the cats serve even one single useful purpose. No success. Tried to mooch a piece of my master's wife's sandwich. No success. Instigated karmic justice by taping master's wife's car keys to cat's belly. Found one useful purpose for a cat. Master made me play fetch again. Had fun pretending I couldn't find the ball even though it was right next to me. He's cute when he's yelling. Getting harder and harder to resist call of garbage can. This may be my final entry.