Dear Diary,
Victory is mine.
Today, I did what no one else dared to do—I busted Bellatrix. Yep. Caught her red-pawed trying to sneak into the forbidden cabinet. I barked. Loud. The masters came running. She hissed. I wagged. They praised me like I was some kind of hero (which, let’s be honest, I am).
Bellatrix called me a snitch. Said I was the “fun police.” Whatever. I saw Willow nodding from the hallway like she was proud, and I swear Arya snickered behind the couch. Even Smokey looked impressed, though he tried to play it cool.
I don’t care what they say. This is going to get me all the attention. Rubs? Mine. Treats? Mine. Extra breakfast milk? Definitely mine. I’m riding this wave of glory straight to the top of the cuddle hierarchy.
Bellatrix is sulking now, muttering about “betrayal” and “the resistance.” Honestly, she needs a nap. Or a hobby. Maybe she should try catching mice like Smokey. Or just chill like Hiro.
Anyway, I’m off to bask in my hero status. I might even roll over dramatically when the humans walk by. That always gets me a belly rub.
Reggie the Righteous