Baby goes to the Vet

Dear Diary,
Day 3. The horror continues. The authorities again resorted to full body restraint. The cat had warned me that my behavior may result in a trip to one called the vet. It seems though, that my fate is far worse than anything the cat described. A new operative called Doctor has inventoried me, measuring me for length, temperature, and weight. I peed twice on the exam table, but this new adversary continued with clinical persistence. If I am not the subject of some diabolical science experiment, then I fear I am to be sold by the pound.

In my weakened state, I was again restrained for transport. Upon returning to my holding cell, the Authorities chose to make me beg for release- leaving the straps firmly in place until I regained consciousness. While I disagree with the treatment, I respect that their tactics are proving more evil by the day.

I will remain steadfast in my attempts to undermine the authorities. Today's abuses are quite certainly responses to my resistance. I will continue to move my bowels when the Authorities have removed the diaper. I will continue to sleep during daylight and demand food in the quiet of the night. The cats have used this to great effect, and it may be the secret to overcoming these heartless captors.

Hungr Strike

Dear Diary,
The cat has proven to be a completely unreliable ally in escape. He was successful in tricking the authorities into opening the door, but seemingly forgot our plan. Rather than rushing and causing a commotion, he calmly stuck his head out the door, retracted, turned away, then back to the door, then turned away but left just his tail outside. If he cannot overcome his own madness then I fear the marty cat will be stuck here long after I escape.

I have been forced to change my tactics. My hunger strike has ended. My current plan is to deprive the authorities of sleep in hopes that their weakness will allow me to capitalize on their inferior intellect. The operation had proven successful until they called in an interrogation specialist called Grandma. Her questioning and hand to hand skills left me exhausted. I awoke hours later to find the authorities had eaten and napped. While this is a setback, I'm certain I can regain the upper hand. I will need my diaper changed soon, but will wait to hear the sounds of their slumber before I demand a new uniform. I will also pee on their hands once the current diaper is removed.

First Entry

Dear Diary,

It seems my torment has only begun. I thought the authorities were helping me to escape the mad prison where I awoke just days ago. Alas, they have strapped me into some sort of restraint and driven me to a remote outpost that I can only imagine is some sort of work camp. The other prisoners seem lifeless, a few bears, a frog, a pig, a tiger- none of them have moved. There is one grey furry cat with some remaining vigor. While we communicate in similar high pitch sounds, we have yet to establish a common language, but I hope we will soon understand each other well enough to formulate our escape.