It was a sad day in the Sonnen home. Our little HoneyBear decided to go on an adventure and hasn’t returned. We all miss him. He’s our little transvestite. Maybe that’s why he took off - he was tired of being called a transvestite. But just look at the markings on that face - he’s gorgeous!
Come home, little HB!
I’ve seen this on the Internet a few times and I just love it. 
DOG DIARY
7:00 AM - Outside! My favorite thing!
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 - Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 PM - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
2:00 PM - Looked out the window and barked! My favorite thing!
3:00 PM - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
4:00 PM - Chased a bird out of the tree! My favorite thing!
5:00 PM - Milk bones! My favorite thing! 6:00 PM - Watched my people eat! My favorite thing!
6:20 PM - Table scraps! 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!
CAT 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 what I am capable of. 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 continues to receive special privileges. He is regularly released – and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded.
In case the animation does not work, here is the link:
http://i28.tinypic.com/20sawwx.gif
Casper always demands eye contact. It’s not enough that you turn your face toward him and make goo-goo noises. He wants your full attention. He wants to see ‘you’. I love that about him.
It always cracks me up to see our pets drag something off as if it was a successful kill in the wild. This morning Spanky played with a balloon until it popped. She stepped back to assess the situation, then moved in and tapped the flaccid left-overs with a paw. Convinced that it was dead, she picked it up in her mouth and carried it beneath my vanity. From that point on, she had to protect her ‘dinner’ from Moofasa. Never one to be left out of a game, MooFoo tried his darndest to get at that dead balloon, but Spanky would not stand for it!
