My Secret Diary


18th January

9:01 AM:         Due to the noise, smell and continuing neglect I am forced to run away from home.


9:02 AM:         I have decided to live in Acorn Avenue. Itís a nice posh street and quite suitable for a cat of my superior breeding. Goodbye Number 42 Hazel Drive. To be honest, I donít know why I put up with rundown Hazel Drive for so long.


11:43 PM:       Iím back home again, having failed to find suitable alternative accommodation!


My search began at number 2 Acorn Avenue. I discovered the back door had been left wide open. That seemed a good sign so I immediately decided to adopt this family. Excitedly I hurried inside to meet my new humans. There was no one to greet me; no welcoming committee, no fanfare Ė how inconsiderate! Undeterred, I helped myself to a huge bowl of Rabbit-by-Product-with-Ascorbic-Acid-Calcium-Carbonate-Potassium-Iodide-and-Cobalt-Carbonate-in-an-Authentic-Thiamine-and-Pyridoxine-Hydrochloride-Sauce then settled down, on a comfy armchair, and made myself at home. What a shock I got when I spotted Killer sleeping on the other chair. I made a very, very, very hasty (but quiet) retreat. Can you believe it - a delinquent cat like Killer living in Acorn Avenue?

Next I tried howling outside numbers 4 through 46 in the expectation of being welcomed in. There was obviously nobody at home in any of these houses for the doors remained firmly closed Ė except at number 38 where a sweet looking little old lady threw a bucket of water over me.

There was a rottweiler at number 48 so I quickly skipped through gardens 50 to 94 with the beast in hot pursuit. Number 96, was answered by a human wearing a tight, black t-shirt with ďDeath to CatsĒ emblazed across the front. His bulging arms were completely covered in tattoos of snakes and lady humans. He is obviously a mass murderer. Although he shouted after me, ďCome here cute little kitty,Ē I didnít dare stop. I certainly wasnít volunteering to be his next victim.

I ran to my garden shed and hid, just in case the rochwieller and the mass murderer were still searching for me. I crawled under my worry blanket and immediately fell asleep - I didnít realize running away was so tiring. I snoozed for the rest of the day then crept into my bedroom to continue hiding.


I am a fugitive, forced to go underground in my own bedroom.


I am now even angrier with my humans, for they donít care that I have run away.

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