Hi everyone, it’s me, Karl.
I’ve been away for a few days attending to some very serious business.
I was drafted.
Yes. It’s true.
At first, I was afraid. I was, in fact, petrified.
But my dad was there. By my side.
And so, we went into battle together.
It all began last weekend on my daily walk. You may have heard a terrible rumor that I’m afraid of cats. This is completely untrue. Mostly. Anyway, one of those bush dwelling varmints leapt out and attempted to assassinate yours truly.
I sprang into action.
Pure killer instinct. My fur stood on end. I arched my back. I stood tall. My eyes said everything.
Hey, cat. Back off, or my dad will do something about it.
And just like that, the first shot was fired.
The war had begun.
Gone was my fear.
Not that I was afraid. I was just strategically cautious.
The next day, I was on high alert. Every rustle. Every suspicious leaf. I watched the bushes like a seasoned warrior. I puffed up at the slightest movement of greenery. Dad told Mom I was hunting cats.
By day three, I was ready. Ready to dive into the bushes and drive them out once and for all.
No more cats on my watch.
Viva la revolution.
Karl. Out.