Pocket Reports From the Battle of Independence Day

The Independence Day war is over, and, with the possible exception of some ill-digested meals, there were no casualties, at least on this front.  

 In the weeks leading up to the battle, we heard artillery in the distance.  The sound was far enough away to be drowned out by the television and air conditioner.  But, each day, it got closer.  

On July 3, an attack occurred at our home.  It was launched from the east.   As soon as dusk settled in, the bombing began.  When the first explosion occurred,I lifted my head, and when the second happened, I sprung into action.

 I have been tasked, since coming into the family, with protecting my parents.  This is a challenge for a five-pound, four-inch-tall dog, but I take my duty very seriously.  When I was sure that we were under attack,I decided to save my Dad.   I climbed up his chest and sat on his shoulder.  My parents thought I did this because I was frightened.  They could not be more wrong.  I climbed on top of my dad, so I could catch any artillery shells that burst through the roof and save him
  
 It also gave me the advantage of seizing the higher ground.  I could see the bombs bursting in air.  I looked down at Private River, laying next to our mother, unfazed.  I told her to go into my condo and get the rocket launcher.  Unfortunately, River is not good at taking orders, or putting her tail on the line for others, so she ignored me.  Oh, how I longed to have General Foley with me.  We would have put down this disturbance with no fuss.  Now the enemy could continue to move forward without resistance. 

There was a huge explosion over the house.  I hated to abandon my Dad.  I knew his nerves were becoming more frayed with every attack.  If his mental state deteriorated further, I would have to give him a big lick in the face just like Patton.  For now, I determined he would be fine and got down, then walked under the end table. 

Mommy remarked that I was scared and had taken cover.  Again, she misunderstood my intentions.  On the bottom of the end table, which my parents could not see, was my command center with radar of the surrounding area.  From there, I could call in counter airstrikes to strengthen our position.  

When I got connected to the radar, the attack was going much worse than I had anticipated.  The enemy had surrounded us and seemed to have an endless amount of ammunition.  I tried to contact the angels, but the messages were getting lost during the rocket attacks.  I began to consider the unthinkable.  We may have to abandon our position.  If we did, I didn't know if we would ever get back.  

I had to rely on a seldom-used talent.  I began by standing still, then I shook like a well charged Mama’s Little Helper.  After that, I began to paint.  I signaled to all my friends to do the same.  I hoped all of us dogs shaking and panting together could create enough energy to block the enemy’s transmission.  Soon across the land, dogs were shaking and panting as we raised a counter-attack.

We were able to stop the shelling at our house, and at several more.  Some of my unfortunate friends suffered through the night and did so day after day.  I know they did all the shaking and panting they could even though they were not as successful as I was because some of our enemy's attacks were more powerful than others.   But, when morning dawned, we stood victorious.  As in my case,I stood victorious with diarrhea, but the important thing is that I was standing and ready to renew our battle next year.

No retreat! No surrender!