[ WP ] You spend years as a war prisioner in a small cell . Suddenly you realize you are , in fact , a dog .

Day 823. 
 
 My captors have returned me to my solitude after a day of SQUIRREL. Frisbee and exercise. I was fed, though not well. I had to beg one of them for a snack. It was completely dehumanizing. Visitors came today. They rubbed my belly. I am a good boy. 
 
 Day 862. 
 
 There is a sound that happens here, late at night. A click or a clack. Always twice in succession, maybe 10 minutes apart. That's the signal. After that, the guard strolls past. More like struts past. Tail high in the air, fur standing on edge, purring. More visitors came today. They rubbed my belly. I am a good boy. 
 
 Day 903. 
 
 It has been many days since my last entry. Much has changed. I tried to shake hands with a smaller fellow today and was struck on the nose as a result. Then he rubbed my belly. I am a good boy. 
 
 Day 918. 
 
 I was a bad boy. Captors say the smell will never come out. They still rubbed my belly. I am a good boy. 
 
 Day 937. 
 
 Captors abandoned me for at least an hour. I feared I would die in this cell. Guard attempted to communicate, but walked away before I could decode the message. A stranger stopped me in the street and rubbed my belly. I am a good boy. 
 
 Day 939. 
 
 The furry guard is a cat. I decoded the communication. I fear something is wrong. I am questioning my very existence. The cat has motives. I hate that cat. Still, they rubbed my belly. I am a good b... Shit. I'm a dog.
