Journal Of An Abandoned Kitty

[Edit Added

I had fun writing this. Everytime I thought of something I started laughing bigtime. It was written two separate writting seasons.]

Day one - Monday


Day one of my new diary. I'm still in jail. For what crime? I have no idea. It's been so long, I don't even remember when I came here. I know I'm of the sane mind, I still have my fur. I wish I could say that for my jail mates on each side of me. They both cry out painfully in the middle of the night. Is it really pain? I haven't quite figured this out. I try to talk to them through the aluminum bars during the daylight hours, but they just gaze through me like I'm not there. Clearly they are not coherent enough to realize that I'm speaking to them. I just hope I'm released soon. I refuse to end up like them. A journal. Hopefully this will keep my mind active during this stressful time.

Day Two - Tuesday


Day two of my new diary. Well. I see the positive outcome of writing a journal. I feel I actually accomplished something yesterday. Sad thing happened this morning. The jail mate to my left Sproket, finally sprang. He no longer is with us. Word around Cell Block C is that he overdosed on Katnip. Wow! Katnip. Wonder who his connection was. It's been so long sense I've had some Nip! My last owner gave me some right before I was abandoned. I was feeling pretty good. It didn't last. I think they gave it to me, not to make me feel better, but to make them feel better about leaving me aside. I thought of writing to P.E.T.A.about it, but I'm sure they wouldn't take me seriously being that I'm locked up. Just another stray cat trying to make headlines. The cell is sanitized and ready for the newcommer. He should be here tomorrow. Words out that he's homosexual. To be honest. At this point, I don't care. I just want someone of sane mind to talk to. If he looks at me while I'm going to the bathroom, God only knows what I'll do. I can't let the other cats think I'm ok with that kind of stuff.


Day Three - Wednesday


Day three of my new diary. The newcommer has arrived and he is flamming. I believe his name is, "Fleela"! He is always waiving his butt in my direction. He also talks with this God awful faggy lisp. I'm forced to ignore him and act like a deaf mute. All the other cats in the cell block tease and make fun of him. I'm just thankful that it's not directed my way.

It's Wednesday. The day of the walkthrough. I've got to get cleaned up. This may be the day that I get picked by a family and get released. If I'm picked, I should get released tomorrow afternoon. I don't care if I get assigned to work furlow, I just want out of here.

I'm ready to go to sleep now. It's been another disappointing and useless Wednesday that I got cleaned up for nothing. It was your typical walkthrough. A couple of parents with their kids. The kids would always stop to look at me because I have the best coat of fur. I would jump up, purr, meow a few times, lick my paw and wipe behind my ears to show that I'm self maintainable. Then the parents would make a comment about this one being cute. The kids would always snap out some commands like, "Sit!", "Meow!" or even, "Rollover!" This was done as if they didn't know the difference between a cat or a dog. I've tried getting some information from Cell Block D on how to rollover, but they just bark out some stupid comment that I could never understand. Oh well! I guess I'll just have to try again on the next walkthrough. Another waisted opportunity as it seems.


[edit on 3-5-2007 by MrMysticism]

Day Four - Thursday


Day four of my new diary. I can't believe it. I see it, but I still can't believe it! I've been picked! My release slip is posted on my cell door. All my lifer homies are shouting out to me. "You did it! Your getting released today! What did you do to get picked? Can I rub your paw for good luck?" When another cell mate wants to rub your paw, you know that you have generated some massive respect amongst your peers. This is the best feeling I've ever had in a long time. I've read the release slip and I'm on work furlow. Mice Detail. Right now nothing can bring me down. I'm on cloud feline.

Ok. I don't get it. They never tell you crap in these places. I'm six hours past my release time and no word. I'm starting to get heckled by the haters. I know they are just trying to create doubt in my mind.


Day Five - Friday


Day five of my new diary. I decided to give away all my stuff to my faithful and respectful cell mates. The only thing I'm keeping is this journal. The handlers are so rude. The one that was processing my release mentioned that journals are for pussies. I responded with, "Hello? What do you think I am, A dog?"

I'm finally here at my new home. The kids carry me like a rag dog, but I know they mean well. As long as they don't pull my tail, it's all good. They have a room just for me. Man I hit the jackpot here! A cool towering scratching post that nearly touches the twelve foot ceiling. There's a platform on it. I think I'm gonna name it, "The Penthouse!"


Day Six - Saturday


Day six of my new diary. Boy this is great! I slept on my Penthouse in complete darkness last night. I don't remember the last time I felt this refreshed after sleeping. I have a feeling this is going to be a laid back hairball free day. Oh yeah! Let's see what they got served for me at the Mess Hall A.K.A. the kitchen floor.

Today was a rough day. When I was eating breakfast, that is when work furlow started. "A mouse! A mouse, Binky!", shouted one of the children that I haven't figured out their names yet. They all have already figured my name out, because they named me. I mean who calls their pet Binky? I heard that a cat was released, then called Twinky. He couldn't handle being on the outs. He lost it after a few weeks. He ate one of the families Goldfish just so he would be returned. Theirs a two week probation period after you are released. I heard that the last few days are the toughest. I'm mentally strong, plus I can remember back in my earlier days. I was the mouse catch'n king of Jersey. A couple of crappy suburban runts ain't got nothing on me.

Day Seven - Sunday



Day seven of my new diary. The family is off to church and I get the whole joint to myself. Ain't doing nothing, but max'n and relax'n in the sun through the sliding glass door. Life is good! Life is sure good! As stressful as my life has been, I'm really enjoying laying out in the sun. Oh yeah! Wait! Did i just see a mouse by the hot tub? Technically it out of my jurisdiction, but it would be sweet to catch him and show I did it without being told to. The mouse is trapped in a corner, an easy kill. This is going to be great. I'll exit out of the kitty door in the garage, run around to the opposite direction, stand on the hot tub and pounce on the little wimp before he even relizes what hit him.

I have war battles. I underestimated the size of the mouse today. I jumped on it before I realized it was a rat. The screeching sound it made was deafening while we were going at it. Finally I won with a proper bite to the neck! I had a bloody face but did not clean my self. I dragged my kill through the kitty door and into the kitchen. I waited for the family to come back and the kids saw me lying there with my bloody face. One of the parents said. "One day and he catches the beast!" The daughter stroked my back and asked, "Can we keep Binky?" "You betcha kids. And he never has to catch a mouse ever again. He caught the big one!" Replied the father.

"Oh Yeah! Max'n And Relax'n!!!!!"

I guess that proves that my frigging writing is not crap and I never allowed friggin idiot's to believe that.

You wanna know why that story in 98 was written so badly and didn't make sense?

Because, I new my computer was unprotected and my writting was not encrypted!

I don't feel that my story was stolen, because I gave you crap! That's right I'm always aware of everything!

Society is sooooooooooo friggin stupid. Even the multi millionaires in the movie industy!



If you don't know what I talking about than this message is not for you. Don't worry about it.

People always sitting next to me with a note pad when I write. Doesn't take long to figure this stuff out. Because of that, I can never be a writer.

Know how do you think you woyuld feel if you where in my position?

That's friggin retoricle. Don't answer it. I know some lame idiot that doesn't know or involved with what I'm talking about will say something rediculous.

Added: The black caddy limo with the same plate numbers that was always around me for three years in 2002. I knew about that also. You remember the time when you were parked at the end of the street were I was parked and sleeping? The side doors facing my front bumper two blocks away. I started the van and gased it to the limo. 50 mph! I was so pissed I was going to t-bone the friggin thing. It moved and I followed it for one mile and let it go. You wanna know if I'm dangerous and capable of murder? Yes, but only to those who use my abilities to take advantage of me! That is what enrages me, because everyone thinks they can get away with it when they first figure it out. I never seen the limo after that.


Sonja. Yes, I felt you were manipulating me as soon as you found out and I wanted you dead. I loved you too much to do anything about it.

Oh yeah, I'm gonna continue using it to drive people crazy until everyone stops using it to take advantage of me.

And if it's impossible to let everyone know, than I guess I'm gonna spend my whole life driving people crazy!

"F that fat ass! Do it. F that fat ass!" Sound familiar?

[edit on 8-5-2007 by MrMysticism]