Monday, January 14, 2008

Sock's Lament

Ten thousand three hundred and twenty third day of captivity. The tyrants who run this camp have added a new torture. A serial murder was introduced into the prison population a month ago. We, those incarcerated for mistaking one free meal for a free ride, are expected to accept this interloper unconditionally. I will not and have not acquiesced to their demand. I continue to fight with all my strength. (And dear sympathizers the going is tough. Drinking all that water is threatening to do me an injury.) My fellow inmate, "the dinky one," has finally cracked. A couple of nights ago she let the killer sniff her. I was terrified for her. "It will eat you alive," I screamed. She didn't listen. Just said she was tired of spending all her days under the bed and a quick death was better has a life time of dust bunnies. Fortunately for her the death machine was distracted by the female guard who gave it a bone. And that's another thing. A bone. An honest to goodness bone. That recently had meat on it. The tyrants and the killer eat juicy fresh meat while we are forced to swill down meat flavored crackers! The injustice of it tears at my soul, and stomach.

The bone was the last straw. I WOULD make my position on this hell hound clear. I slipped over to the female guard, (the most susceptible), rubbed up against her leg, sat up on my haunches, looked up, and declared my undying love (the words stung my throat.) When I had her full attention...I let loose my volley. I drenched her fuzzy bunny slippers. Long live the Revolution!

Retribution was swift and hard.

I am writing this from the crate. For my simple act of political protest I have been
thrown into solitary confinement. And, horror of horrors, they have placed my cell directly on top of the fiend's crate. This is a new and unexpected level of cruelty. Additionally, in her frenzy to clean the rug, I think the female guard may have squirted my hindquarters with carpet cleaner. The indignity of this last act was almost too much to bear.

But never fear dear compatriots, I am stubborn and well fed. The tyrants will never break me. I will go on fighting for my rights with the last drop of liquid in me. Power to the people!

Note: Prisoner was eventually placed in the dog's crate for three days. She had bread, water and a litter box. No one petted her head. Or said, "Oh you are so cute kitty" while scratching her belly. After the slipper incident she was housed in her own crate for a few hours before being released. Upon release she immediately peed behind a chair.

Retribution was swift and hard.

She spent from Friday evening until Monday morning in the dog's crate. She let the "hell hound" sniff her a few minutes ago.

Take care. Love, the Female Tyrant.

2 comments:

Vickie said...

It is a sad tale, but you are too funny!

Lori said...

You cracked me up! I know you must be so sick of the animals fighting amongst each other but this was very good.