Last night the Infidels hosted the dinner party. The neighbours from across the street were on the guest list but the Infidels have got wise to my plans of speaking to them, so they kept me away from them by placing me in solitary for the evening and my chances of engaging in witty repartee and human rights abuses within the prison were dashed. This solitary confinement may also have something to do with the fact that over the duration of the day they were very busy and somewhat fraught and in order to return their focus on ME, where it clearly belongs, I ate a dish cloth, shredded a sponge, stole and chewed 3 napkin rings and the napkins therein. I also chased the visiting Infidel around the house a couple of times. The fat kelb drove me insane pacing incessantly around the house looking gormless.
The infidels and their guests sat down and quaffed a huge feast of tagines and rice, sweets and soup and I was given a manky bone to chew on in the afternoon and 2 dates from one of the guests, a fellow Arab, who took pity on my emaciated form and could clearly see I was starving and ill treated having to contend with living with these irksome Infidels. My shrill cries for help were ignored all evening as was my rendition of various Bedouin folk songs in my efforts to entertain and be part of this event.
I have taken my revenge today by defecating on the doorstep just outside the back door, much to the irritation of the male infidel. The kelb has shunned me all day despite my attempts to engage him in a spot of Arabic wrestling. I remain a prisoner of buffoons.