Close Call


Dear diary,

Yesterday something went terribly wrong. I don’t know whether or not it was my reaction to carrots the day before, or whether I did something else to offend her, mama was gone the entire day. I thought I heard her voice when I woke up in the morning, but daddy came to get me and I didn’t see her. I waited for her all day, looking out the window and refusing to go to sleep in case I missed her. By the end of the day I gave up hope that she was ever coming back and subsided into sleep reluctantly.

Shortly thereafter I dreamed that she was home, and woke up crying. Miracle of miracles, she appeared and rocked me back to sleep. I woke up five more times last night just to make sure that she was still there, and was relieved each time to find her beside me.

This morning she did not participate in our morning chat the way she usually does, rather her eyes were closed and she mumbled at me. I don’t understand why. I gave up and decided to talk with Charlotte instead.




Dear diary,

It appears that my protest may, in fact, be working. I count yesterday as a victory. She fed me the delicious cereal not once, but TWICE in the same day. The first bowl was a funny orange color and tasted a bit different than it usually does, but since I love cereal I ate it with gusto. She seemed inordinately pleased by this, jumping around and telling daddy she had won. I don’t see how that can be, since she didn’t even try to get me to eat disgusting carrots. But I’m willing to let her think that.




Dear diary,

The situation is becoming untenable. In addition to persisting with the “food” she has discovered an entirely new offense to perpetrate against me.

Today, as I was playing, she approached me with what appeared to be a bottle. I eagerly took this from her, but quickly realized that while it resembled that comforting object, it was filled with a clear, tasteless substance and had a hard nipple on which to bite.

Understandably, I hurled this at her without a second thought. She left me to my playing then, but a few minutes ago she tried again. As you can see I did give it a close inspection, but it did not pass muster. This time I threw it at the floor

I shall continue my resistance in earnest and I hope that tomorrow I will write you with better news.


Fresh, Orange Hell


Dear diary,

Oh, what fresh hell is this? In an obscene attempt at humor, today she has dressed me in orange with an orange bib, and is now trying to force me to eat orange food from an orange spoon.

Having just resigned myself to the pears, I am aghast that she is attempting this, and fully intend to file a formal complaint with the management of this establishment.

Until tomorrow,

Maintaining My Composure


Dear Diary,

After two days of blessed reprieve the assault continues. I have attempted, in all earnesty, to express my displeasure in the most polite ways possible. And yet she persists in feeding me this goop.

I had believed my cereal to be pure and unadulterated, but last night I saw her doctor it with the poison. I tried to refuse, but she handed the spoon to Daddy, and no matter how hard I try to resist, he’s too funny to keep my mouth closed for.

I believe this may be a battle I have lost, for now. I will attempt to maintain some manner of control over myself as she shovels it in, but I refuse to like it.


Ever yours,

Pears – Nature’s Poison


Dear diary,

Day two of what the woman is calling “pears.” With each spoonful I become more convinced she’s trying to kill me. She makes strange noises, faces, and gestures in an attempt to distract from her nefarious plan. I do my best to eject the foul substance but, sadly, am no match for her. I hope I am still alive to write again tomorrow.