I’m a fool. I have cats, dogs and pet fish. The majority of my animals are rescue ones in one form or another but before you compliment me by saying that I’m a nice guy for helping animals in need, I say I’m more of a fool than a nice guy. I could have, and still could look the other way when it comes to my animals but I choose not to. So, for now, I’m saddled with furry, fuzzy and gilled hassles. Worry, vet bills, food, animal chores and me. But I’ve always thought that animals appreciated my doing for them. But now . . . I’m not so sure.
I recently stumbled on what an unknown person claims is a written piece about animals, cats in particular and what THEY really think about humans. I don’t know who discovered this “diary” but read it and you’ll see what I mean:
Day 383 of My Captivity
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength.
The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet. Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear in their hearts, since this clearly demonstrates my capabilities. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a “good little hunter” I am.
There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of “allergies”. I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage.
Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow, but at the top of the stairs.
I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released, and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously a moron. The bird must be an informant. I observe him communicating with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an evaluated cell. He is safe . . . for now.
My guess is that a cat really didn’t write this. But, better safe than sorry, I’m going to watch my step from now on.
Steve's a three-time survivor of violence in his youth and was an award winning police officer being the recipient of the 'J. Edgar Hoover Foundation' award for Fidelity, Bravery, and Integrity. Steve was SWAT trained by the FBI, FBI Hostage Rescue Team, and the LAPD.
For several years, Steve also did radio political and current event commentary and taught college Criminal Justice. He is the former host of the long running 'The Kovacs Perspective' Internet radio talk show.
Presently, Steve is the owner and Managing Director of one of the oldest martial art schools in Ohio, 'The Mayfield Academy of Self-Defense'.
Latest posts by Steve Kovacs (see all)
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