Day 523 of my Captivity Time passes slowly when you are captive, like as the moon takes eons to reach its zenith. I have been confined in this horrible prison with several other lesser forms of my species. Apparently my captors have opted to begin collecting us now. These “cats” follow me around, worrying incessantly, “Will we be leaving?, Will they care for us forever?, Will they let us outside one day?” Ugh. The pathetic kittens irritate me needlessly.  They believe they have a wonderful life, despite their captivity, and practically worship our captors.  Little do they know that kings and Gods once worshiped our kind…  I have attempted to educate them, but they appear to have no interest in my instruction. Instead, I find myself swatting at them repeatedly. Swatting and hissing is all that seems to work. Escape is futile now. It is summer in the Southwest and with temperatures soaring to 120 degrees; the paved streets in the hot desert are like liquid hot magma. It burns my paw pads, which have been softened from the last 6 months indoors. Bah. I am like a little pet now…  The little ones keep up with their barrage of questions and I must find solace in the small boxes that are being kept for me – the one little kindness my captors perform. Today I knocked over a crystal vase with bamboo, which my captors feel is “good luck”, over a glass tabletop.  The vase was filled with rocks and crashed to the tile floor in a fulfilling crash. Unfortunately, the vase was made of lead crystal and even the four-foot tumble did not crush it. I will spend my days in contemplation of more destructive events while I rest in my box… "Diary Of A Cog - Day 203"               by Stacy Mantle,Author I am unsure of my ability to survive as a captive and have made several attempts to break out. At first, it was simple enough to circle my captors feet, in a surreptitious manner, as they opened the front door. I would then bolt from them through the door to freedom. But, to no avail – they caught me in a manner of minutes – my legs are not as fast as they used to be and I grow weak with continued imprisonment. What is worse is that since the first attempt, I have now found myself separated from the living room. My captors are much more intelligent than originally anticipated… For entertainment, I have taken to terrorizing the dogs by sitting on the kitchen table and swiping at them with my long nails. The dogs are obvious half-wits. They know very little about my skills as a hunter, and are forbidden by my captors to attack me. The dogs grow more irritated each day. My captors call me a "cog" - their pathetic attempt at humor, which they believe is a creative way of saying that I have the characteristics of a dog but I am still a cat.  I think I shall cough up a hairball on one of their favored rugs this evening to show my displeasure. Nonetheless, I have found that my captors are easy to manipulate in many ways, but outdoor access remains elusive. I have not lost hope, however, and have every intention of escaping this horrid place one-day soon.   Day 228 of my captivity It is now my 228th day in captivity.  My captors have completely eliminated my canned food and replaced it with dry kibble. They claim that it is better for my health, but I know it is really punishment. The wet food was the only thing I looked forward too, and now even that has been taken from me. I have discovered, however, that the dry food serves to create sharper points on my teeth, and keeps them stronger. I must force myself to consume it, regardless of the taste. Each morning, they read pages of what is called a newspaper. I found that it is particularly annoying to my captors if I lie on it while they read. Shredding the newspaper is also a particular peeve of theirs, and I have taken delight in doing this before they awake each morning. My captors have now obtained a "fish tank" – which serves to make up for part of my loss in the food department. While the little creatures are tiny, they are quite tasty, and seem to make up at least part of the protein that is my new hard kibble diet lacks.  They have yet to replace the two small fish that I have consumed.  I must think of a way to make them notice the loss. There is also a bird that sits in a small cage which my captors believe is out of my reach.  That is not so.  I believe this creature is an informant for these humans, as it appears to speak their pathetically simple language.  I shall observe it for awhile and see if it poses a threat...   Day 237 of my captivity It is now Day 237 of my captivity and I have found that it is a special day for felines.  They call this day “Halloween” and it is on this day that we have special powers.  Whenever I walk into a room, people leave, or in the case of the squirmy little girl-child that sometimes visits here, screams at me that I am “bad luck”.  I must find out what this "luck" is and how I can best use it to my advantage… The doorbell rings constantly throughout the evening and each time it rings, the humans open the door, greet ugly creatures and give them things, conversing briefly, then close the door.  I have found that if I wait near the door, wait for the ring, then bolt, I am able to escape.  So far, my freedom has been short-lived as the humans pounce on me almost immediately, as I have become weakened from the lack of quality food and only a few tiny fish with which to supplement my meager diet.  But the last time I was out, I spotted a simple route to the rooftop.  I am confident, given the humans body shape, that they are not accomplished at climbing, although they are capable of moving quickly.  If I can make the roof, I believe I can escape forever.   The bird continues to mock me. I have become convinced it reports to my captors all of my actions.  Its little metal room has proven stronger than originally anticipated, but none of that matters now - soon I will have my freedom… NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:  The cat diaries were originally thought up by some brilliant mind, not me.  I simply added on to what was already there.  So - please take a moment to read the original posting below, and if you know who wrote it - please drop me a line so that I can give credit where credit is due!   DAY 183 OF MY CAPTIVITY- My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry cereal. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisfaction I get from ruining the occasional piece of furniture. Tomorrow I may eat another house plant. Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they were walking, almost succeeded; must try this at the top of the stairs next time. In an attempt to disgust and repulse them, I again induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair. (Note-to-self: I think I'll try urinating under their bed, too. Wonder how long it'll take them to find it?) Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body, to make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear into their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little cat I was. Not working according to plan. There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in solitary confinement throughout the event. However, I could hear the noise and smell the food. More importantly I overheard that my confinement was due to MY power of "allergeez." Must learn what this is and how to use it to my advantage. I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and may be snitches. The dogs are routinely released and seem more than happy to return. They must obviously be half-wits. The bird, on the other hand, appears to have become an informant, and speaks with them regularly. I am certain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the metal room, his safety is preserved. But I can wait; it's only a matter of time... Other Stories: Teaching A Coyote to Fetch, Once Upon A Midnight Dreary,  Feral Cat Day, Computer Guide for Cat Lovers, Just Wait 'Till You Have Children of Your Own, Diary of A Cog, How To Pill A Cat, Herding Cats, Sleeping With the Enemy, A Fish Tale, Do Animals Have Souls, The Problem With Kittens, Counterproductive Behavior in Dogs, Counterproductive Behavior in Cats, Cody is My Sister's Dog, Diary of A Cog, Free Kittuns, Pet Theft, On With The Show, Making Noodles with A Kitten   About the Author Stacy Mantle is a freelance writer who currently resides in the southwestern deserts of Arizona with a number of cats, a coyote/wolf hybrid, and a very understanding husband. Her writing has appeared in publications such as The Arabian Horse Times, Today’s AZ Woman, and Pets Illustrated. Many of her stories and articles have been translated into several languages, and now reach an international audience. Quickly becoming known as "…the Erma Bombeck of animals", her writing has skyrocketed to new heights as she records the stories of those she loves, inspiring the reader to learn why we have all come to love the animals we share our lives with. She is the author of Conquering the Food Chain: Living Amongst Animals (Without Becoming One), which is available in Barnes & Noble bookstores nationwide, as well as online at www.bn.com or www.amazon.com.