36. Letter
Letter
Jackson,
First of all, tell Donovan that naming a cat ‘Puck’ is completely unoriginal for a hockey player, but I’ll let it slide since the cat got your salmon.
Please tell me you kept her. I’m having a hard time picturing a six-foot-plus pro athlete being bossed around a kitchen by a seven-pound kitten, so I’m going to need updates on this.
To answer your question: no tactical camels, unfortunately.
But we do have a base dog. He’s a scruffy, one-eared street dog that the mechanics took in.
They named him ‘Sergeant Major’ because he spends all day sitting on a plastic crate outside the motor tent, barking at anyone who walks past without a helmet.
Even the actual officers don’t mess with him.
Brody tried to steal the peanut butter cookies out of my rucksack while I was cleaning my rifle yesterday.
I had to use a rolled-up field manual to guard them.
He claims he’s just doing ‘quality control’ for the unit, but I told him to get his own pen pal.
Calling you a pen pal, it just doesn’t feel right.
I mean, you’re more than just a pen pal to me.
Hearing about your team sitting in a circle, baby talking to a cat made me smile, Jackson. Truly. It’s loud and dirty over here today, but picturing your locker room made the noise fade out for a minute. Take care of Puck.
Splash