Dispatch from the front

O630, from somewhere SW of Roscommon

The fighting continues in my sector and has intensified dramatically in the past 24 hours.  The enemy has brought in reinforcements, and the battle has spread.  Small pieces of evidence of their ever-present existence litter the landscape and clearly show that the fight needs to be escalated and expanded if we ever hope to defeat this insidious enemy and protect the American way of life.  If I don't make a stand here, the battle will spread.  If not here, where?  Can I imagine this enemy everywhere?  Soon Thailand, then eventually India and then Europe.  We need a Waterloo.  I will learn to fight from behind the trees, with a tank, and drones haven't been excluded.   History infuses and inspires my battle skills and strategies  THEY MUST BE STOPPED!

My benevolent feeding program, cleverly designed to bring the enemy to a large scale battle where my superior technology will overwhelm them,  has not worked.  They have turned this humane way to be defeated against me and instead use it as a rebel feeding program.  Traps that I oh so cleverly set to engage them are robbed, ROBBED, of the vital food this kind hand leaves.  Yet I miss them as they flee back into hiding, disappearing into the to the mist and fog of this awful war.  In fact, I have been wounded in this battle.  I was tired from my ceaseless vigilance and my mind wandered but for a millisecond and the very trap that I set for these vermin grievously wounded me--my thumb, my hand, is in tatters.  Oh, I fight not to swoon at the pain!  That's it.  There will be no more scraps of pizza crust, corn on a plate or peanut butter smears.  They will have to learn to live off the land as I have in this terrible conflict.

I have thought about bringing reinforcements, but I hesitate.  Would a cat be more effective?  A bear?  I wonder.  But I, who is in the the trenches, gallantly refuses this escalation.  It is a man to mouse conflict that I long for, with none of these secret night raids with booby traps left behind like bread crumbs. What honor is there in this?  How can I ever win?  Face me!  Meet thy doom!  We will fight for glory!

I am weary

I persevere.

I will win!!!