Donut's Daily Diaries #1

In which our protagonist struggles to survive threats from both inside and out

Monday

Dad was AWOL for most of the day, and to make matters worse, That Lady let a TOTAL STRANGER into the yard to do something she called "gardening." I always see right through home invasion attempts such as these, but That Lady never learns. I tried to warn her of the coming doom by cowering in the corner near her desk, but her ignorance was unremitting. I ultimately had to vomit all over the floor to get her attention. This, unfortunately, didn't go as planned, as I didn't realize until after the fact just how much I had vomited. I ended up totally trapped, surrounded on all sides by my own regurgitation. That Lady managed to lift me out, but I feared for my life the entire time, and she made quite a stink about deadlifting 45 pounds. She really should go to the gym, and stop letting trespassers cross my borders.

Tuesday

Dad was missing for most of the day, again, and I was distraught. Sleeping was the only way to escape the grief, so I did a lot of that. When he returned long past dinnertime, that lady claimed I'd already been fed.

Wednesday

Not a bad day. Dad was still pretty absent, but That Lady didn't notice when I jumped onto the big bed.

Thursday

Dad dropped me off at Chicken Lady's house this morning, because That Lady invited someone called "cleaner" over to violate my sovereign territory and didn't want me around to protect her. Good riddance, I much prefer Chicken Lady's house anyway. Last time I stayed with the Chicken Lady, I sat on her bed while she roasted me a chicken breast. Today's special was a multi-course meal of scrambled eggs and gluten-free toast. I peed in my diaper while I snoozed on her sheets, because why not? It's more convenient than getting up to pee on the furniture.

Friday

The house smelled funny today AND Dad abandoned me earlier than usual. I decided to extend an olive branch by joining That Lady for a nap on the couch, but she kept kicking me awake and muttering something about snoring.

Saturday

Dad was home all day, finally, and he went back to sleep after feeding me breakfast! I don't believe dogs go to heaven, as I much prefer the idea of eternal oblivion. But if I end up being wrong, I hope heaven will be a lot like this morning: A long nap with Dad on a king-sized mattress, with That Lady nowhere in sight.