Reading through my diary, I realise that I started telling the story of my escape from prison and my shacking up with this bird over a month ago. And I still haven't got to that bit yet. As you can tell, I lead a pretty busy life here and things get in the way so.
My dirty protest continued and my captors grew increasingly wary around me. Fearful for their own safety, they brought in a new member of staff - an evil guard dog called Archie Jack-Russell. He was an aggressive, snappy thing who was always snuffling around my cell showing off his teeth and his toys. He was the jailers' pet and went about his duties with gusto. The little rat catcher.
My tummy is really growly. I haven't had a bite to eat since elevenses. I am going to call her in from the garden. She's slacking and needs telling.
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