Just For Fun...From Craigslist!

The Dog's Diary

8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 PM - Milk bones! My favorite thing!
1:00 PM - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 PM - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 PM - Dinner! My favorite thing!
7:00 PM - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 PM - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 PM - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!

The Cat's Diary

Day 983 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 into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates my capabilities. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a "good little hunter" I am. Bastards!

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 the 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 retarded.

The bird must be an informant. I observe him communicate with the Guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an Elevated Cell, so he is safe.

Busy, Busy, Busy

Over coffee at our regular haunt, I was talking with a good friend yesterday. In the course of our conversation he mentioned his frustration with having to wait on certain individuals – “important individuals” – who had to make some decisions before he could proceed with several important projects. Until these folks paid attention to his concerns, my friend was blocked. Unfortunately, these other people did not seem to believe that his project was as important as their agendas. I think all of us can identify with my friend.

This got me to thinking about priorities. Doubtless the “movers and shakers” who were holding my friend’s desires captive believed that they had many, many important commitments. His concern was just one more thing on their list. But, when something so important to someone is buried in schedules and commitments, maybe the schedules are too crowded and the commitments are too numerous?

We often confuse busyness with productivity. The more we are doing, the more we believe we are getting done. But this is not the case. We live in a culture that desperately runs from appointment to appointment, commitment to commitment and place to place without any clear direction as to where it is going. We are busy, busy, busy and lost, lost, lost.

Perhaps we are trying to do too much. If someone would look at my schedule, would they be able to clearly see the priorities that I believe are important or would they see a clutter of activity? Would they be able to clearly discern the people who matter most to me or be able to see the causes for which I care? Or would they see a life that is busy with stuff and has no real substance? To do a few things and do them well is better than doing a lot of things poorly.

Eight Wonderful Benefits of Fear

Fear keeps us from fully trusting in the Father's provision.

Fear keeps us from trying because we are afraid that we will fail.

Fear changes what we say in private to something different in public.

Fear forbids us from changing.

Fear conforms us to the expectations of others.

Fear makes us try to hold on to things that we cannot keep.

Fear pushes us to embrace religion instead of Jesus.

Fear makes genuine friendship impossible.