Dear Diary,

I was spotted again today. Patricia and her husband were driving home from one of their 'camping' trips--I thought I recognized the license plate. I must have been distracted; I was helping myself to some roadkill and lost track of where I was. Rookie mistake, I know, but in my defense, it was a whole-ass deer. And those headlights flashed right in my face.

Dina says it's gonna be alright, that she did the usual try-to-not-laugh-in-their-face routine when a screaming Patricia contacted her. The Sheriff's office is usually the first place they call--if I'm lucky. If not, Animal Control comes sniffing about, and things get more complicated. Anyway, I didn't tell her about the deer. I don't want to give her any more ammo for when it's her turn to cook again. 'Oh, Shelly, so you won't eat any of my casserole, but desiccated road meat is fine?' Well, Dina, at least desiccated road meat goes easy on the hot sauce.

I don't know why Patricia can't do her 'camping' closer to home. Doesn't she know it's dangerous out there at night? There are bears in the area. Now I have to deal with a few more flattering newspaper depictions. Maybe even a Youtube video or two, narrated by Microsoft Sam if I'm lucky. Good grief! Of, and of course, he's bound to give me a call soon. He sure does love to yell about 'secrecy' and 'our duty to our kind' or whatever. I swear, the old owl has eyes all over, I can't sneeze without him complaining that it's too loud.

I'd just finished reverting when Patricia called. I was looking forward to a few hours of peace and quiet at home, but I should have known she'd invite us over for dinner again. Every sighting's the same thing. I'm sure I'm going to be hearing tall tales all evening.

I wonder if I'll be a bear or a wolf this time. Maybe an ape. She's been in an ape kind of mood ever since she watched that documentary about Australopithecus. If Naish's name is taboo around the dinner table, I don't know why the damn Australopithecus isn't. Either way, I'll have to remember to excuse myself before it's too late. I wouldn't want to forget where I buried that deer carcass.

Dina was right, keeping a diary was a great idea. It keeps me from feeling overwhelmed. I really must let her braid my fur like she keeps asking.

Maybe tomorrow night.

Love, S.