Sad Cat Diary

 Dear Diary,  the authorities continue to torment me to the point of exhaustion.  

Cradling me as if I am some sort of toy or doll, objectifying me to no end.  I think I will die.  Okay, I died.  I am now dead.   From the cuddle torture.
Oh wait, somehow I survived, but sadly only to endure yet more malicious cuddling torture.

Dear Diary,

The authorities have dropped the outdoor temperatures to lethal
levels.
Death is imminent. And now they have built some sort of flaming
log structure to prolong my suffering.
I am now forced to sit and watch forlornly as I die a slow death.   

Dear Diary,  I fear that my spirit is finally broke. 
I have pleaded with the authorities to scratch behind

my ears, yet, it seems they are careless or just plain
stupid, after scratching behind my ears they also scratch
my back.
Of course I am forced to follow protocol and scratch
the hell out of them.




 

Dear Diary,  The authorities have made it their sadistic policy to feed me only 3 times per day, plus snacks.  Despite my continual calling out in starvation.

As you can see, I will soon wither away and die.  This is definitely my last entry.

  
 
Dear Diary,
There is no love.  The authorities have completely abandoned us- for nearly an hour now. Ignoring, neglecting, total disregard for our petting and massaging needs.  I am sure they are gone forever.
 
  Dear Diary,

After enduring nearly 4 weeks of constant name calling, bullying, harassment and starvation I have been left alone to suffer with the dark images the authorities have burned into my mind “Widdle Fwuffers” , “Fat, Fat”, “Fluffer Nutter”, “Sargent Cuddles”- just to name a few.  Sticks and stones break my bones, and the Authorities words destroy me.  
 
 
 
Dear Diary,  
The authorities are tracking my every move.  My whereabouts are under constant surveillance. And now it seems my worst fears are turning to reality.  The hippy smelling one is hunting me to use my pelt as a coat.
This may be my last entry.