Rats! Foiled Again!!!

I have officially had it with the man. I stayed up all night concocting the perfect plan, and somehow he managed to foil me once again. Fiddlesticks!!! I thought for sure this scheme would work, but I guess I'll have to go back to the drawing board.

Let me give you some insight as to what happened. The man left early this morning for his Saturday breakfast ritual, giving me time to set the wheels in motion for his demise. The door to his office, luckily for me, was left ajar, so I sneaked in undetected. Often when he sits at his computer, probably e-mailing lies about my citizenship status to the government, he listens to music using headphones. I don't know what he listens to exactly, but it is probably something that would make me howl or vomit, or both (usually not at the same time, but I've had my moments). Anyway, my plan was two-fold, and I thought for sure there was no way for him to avoid falling into my trap, for if one facet of the plan failed, the other one was sure to work.

Here was the plan. I strategically dropped a poop on the carpet right next to his headphones. I have noticed through my keen espionage in the past that he never really looks at the floor when grasping for the ear devices, so it was inevitable that he would grab onto the turd instead, perhaps mushing it in his hand and giving me a victorious chuckle and tail wag at the sight of his humiliation. If for some reason he noticed the brown dropping on the floor, the back-up plan was for him to mistake it for a Christmas kiffel or elongated cookie and take a bite out of it. I spent hours learning how to simulate the shapes of these pastries, and I can tell you with certainty that it is not easy.

Either the sharpherd or that devilish tree must have tipped him off because he did not squish it in his fingers, nor did he take a bite. Instead he went running to Pookie, tattling on me as if I was some kind of contemptuous child. Needless to say, I was found out and punished with banishment from the snuggly blankets on the people's bed.

With the blankets now an impossible dream, I was forced to put on the ridiculous Santa suit for warmth so that I did not shiver to death. Compounding the problem, Pookie and the girl decided to have some kind of crayon exhibition today, only these crayons seem to be used exclusively on the humans' faces to make them appear younger. They mentioned something about a woman named Mary Kay, and I am suspicious of this mystery woman already because she has two first names. This means she must be two-faced like the man, who gives me treats only as a means to control me. Whatever the case, in the hopes of seeing this Mary Kay woman, other females have flocked to the house in search of her mysterious facial crayons. I noticed every time a new one appears, the man and sharpherd retreat for the upstairs office. Therefore I must recruit these women, for it seems the man fears them greatly. Maybe I will build an army after all. We will first rid ourselves of the man, then the tree and the sharpherd. Victory will be so sweet.

I will be keeping an eye out for this Mary Kay; I envision her as a pink wizard who might be able to grant me three wishes. If so, I already know what I will wish for:

1. The ultimate disappearance of the man
2. A lifetime supply of rawhide bones
3. A Hannah Montana backpack

Godspeed.
Z.