The Adventures of General GrettaBot vs. the Squirrel Armada – Day 185667
(Author’s note- The
Adventures of General GrettaBot is best read aloud using a super-hero voice,
like Batman whispering.)
I fear for the Leader’s
sanity. Let me explain. At first things were looking up. The Leader had finally
started taking my council seriously on the subject of regular perimeter
patrols. Several times a day we exit through the front gate on squirrel recon
missions. I am outfitted with my full dress uniform (pink collar) to remind the
vile tree rats of the rank of professional soldier they are dealing with. The
Leader also wears his full uniform (pants), which is rarely worn in the house
during the summer defense season.
In preparation for the recon
patrols, the Leader attaches a leash to my uniform. This vexes me. I can only
assume he knows what he is doing, though doesn’t explain it to me at all. Every
time we ready ourselves for an outing he says the words, “New Jersey, Leash
Laws,” and “Soon.” I fear we are being reassigned and these recon patrols are
training for our new post. Though, I have no idea why I would need new
training. I’m the point of the spear, the tip of the talon. I can only be
sharpened to so fine a point.
Perhaps it is to work
on our timing of attack. Often as we patrol, I see an opportunity to destroy nearby
enemy troops. At first I would bolt after them in an attempt to crush their fuzzy
bones between my jaws. But the Leader inexplicably held on to the chain
attached to my uniform, granted often I have wrapped the lead around his feet
while 360 degree patrolling. He needs to work on his positioning, but that’s another subject.
The tactic of holding on to the leash slowed me enough to allow the enemy seconds
to retreat up a tree. I kept up the good fight often dragging the Leader across
the lawn while he barked battle cries. His feet sometimes left the ground completely
in his exuberance.
I must consider the
idea that he is following so closely to me to train himself on attack methods.
Yes, that would explain quite a lot. If we are to be reassigned in the war to a
new post, perhaps the vile nut-eating demons will have such a strong-hold that
the Leader will need to be another foot-soldier in the good fight. I shall have
to train him harder, never letting up.
Hopefully he doesn’t
crack under the strain. I have already seen disturbing signs. Several times he
has picked up the powerful message mounds I left in the front lines with a
baggie. It often takes me several minutes to decide on the perfect spot to
deposit them. As my instinctual manual instructs, the mounds should always be
left in high-traffic areas. Upon deposition, the wind can waft the message of
freedom to enemies and loyal patriots alike. Then the Leader inexplicably picks
up the message mound with a bag, and carries it to the dumpster. I fear for his
sanity, but will remain loyal and patient with his training.
Until next time, comrades,
remain vigilant!
Also, the Leader wanted me to mention his latest report in Reptiles Magazine:
High Herping Adventures in Costa Rica
Also, the Leader wanted me to mention his latest report in Reptiles Magazine:
High Herping Adventures in Costa Rica
