The Truffle Diaries- bring back the sparklies

4. Day Five of my incarceration.

The escape tunnel under the bed is progressing well and the fools do not notice the excavations going on right beneath their feet.

I scatter the diggings gradually around the caravan. Ha! Another few days and I will be free, either via my superior speed at dashing out of the door unnoticed, or else via the tunnel. I cannot fail.

I have been googling power tools and sadly I do not think that the arrival in the post of a plunge saw will go unnoticed. Claws it shall have to be.

The male captor spoils all my fun. He removed the fairy lights from the windows after discovering me dangling from them. I wasn’t going to electrocute myself at all. Fool.

Bring back the sparklies.

Day six of my captivity. They have not returned. I am beginning to forget who they were – I have vague recollections of them, but these are fading. The were probably not worthy anyway with their shameful abandonment. I am considering scratching them into my Retribution Journal but I can hardly bring myself to write their names.

I have made a nest for myself on a pile of folded clothes in the bedroom which, as these captors are clearly slatterns, never get put away. From here I will one day make it to the top of the wardrobe, but for now I am content to shed over their jumpers. From this vantage point I survey my reduced new kingdom.

It is somewhat of a comedown from the last one. I do not think that my floofmeisters are ever returning so I am clearly going to have to make the best of it. The oaf hound seems to have resigned himself happily to these shabby new circumstances but I sigh wearily with the realisation that I am going to have to begin over with a whole new training plan to mold these incompetents into suitable subjects.

My work is never done.