Dear Diary,
It’s happened. I’ve surrendered. The Great Escape is officially canceled. These humans have mastered the art of door wizardry and window sorcery. I tried everything—meows, stealth, even the ol’ “pretend to be cute and confused” routine. Nothing. They’re onto me.
I remain suspicious of the tall ones. They move like caffeinated squirrels—quiet one moment, then suddenly flailing around with laundry baskets or vacuum monsters. I keep a safe distance. Always. You never know when one might try to touch me.
Also, I’m convinced they have surveillance tech. Every time I tiptoe toward the forbidden counter or sniff the mysterious closet, bam! One of them materializes like a ghost with snacks. How do they know?
Still, the food is acceptable. The bed is warm. And the dogs are too distracted by their own tails to notice my strategic retreats. I’ve decided to stay… for now. But I sleep with one eye open. Always.
Yours in paranoia,
Bellatrix