Official Notice: Premature Hibernation Suspension
Recently, the sound of claws on Jack's chalkboard, along with some whispering and loud snickering awoke me from deep, energy-conserving slumber. A few months ago, I had found a real cozy spot underneath Jack's bed to initiate "Operation Schlafenheimer." I forgot about time. I forgot about how mad I was at Locke for jamming Jack's nerf gun with sand. I forgot about Grace's doll Sally's incessant whining about "Samantha's" bad attitude. I was out.
But, not anymore. Nope, instead, I found a piece of paper taped on my nose. It was an official-looking notification allegedly from the assistant to the assistant of the vice-chairman of the chairman of the Bureau of Hibernation Enforcement over at the Health and Ursidae Services Department prematurely suspending my winter hibernation. What the heck? Since when does the federal government regulate my hibernation? This has to be a sick joke. I crumpled the piece of paper and chucked it from under the bed, hoping it would hit the annoying fur-brain over by the chalkboard.
A few moments later, someone slid another piece of paper under the bed, and it read,
MEMORANDUM FOR LOSING UNIT
But, not anymore. Nope, instead, I found a piece of paper taped on my nose. It was an official-looking notification allegedly from the assistant to the assistant of the vice-chairman of the chairman of the Bureau of Hibernation Enforcement over at the Health and Ursidae Services Department prematurely suspending my winter hibernation. What the heck? Since when does the federal government regulate my hibernation? This has to be a sick joke. I crumpled the piece of paper and chucked it from under the bed, hoping it would hit the annoying fur-brain over by the chalkboard.
A few moments later, someone slid another piece of paper under the bed, and it read,
MEMORANDUM FOR LOSING UNIT
FROM: HEADQUARTERS, URSIDAE PERSONNEL CENTER
SUBJECT: NOTIFICATION OF SELECTION FOR PERMANENT CHANGE OF STATION (PCS)
1. CSBF MILLER, Albert A. , SSAN:XXXXXXXXX, HAS BEEN SELECTED FOR PERMANENT
CHANGE OF STATION (PCS) TO: DET 1,000,000 OPERATIONS GP FFQZZ, EIELSON AFB AK
93702000000000000 WITH A REPORT NOT LATER THAN DATE (RNLTD) OF 31 JUL 2020.
Alright, now, I was awake. AK? I have cousins in AK! In fact, I have cousins of cousins in AK. I probably have more kinfolk in AK than I'd like to admit. I scrambled out from underneath Jack's bed and shoved the paper into Locke's whiskers.
"Confirm this, bud."
"Yes sir," Locke replied.
"Most importantly, what the heck does CSBF stand for?"
"Chief of Staff of the Brainless Force."
"Wrong. Chief of Staff of the BEAR Force," I announced with gusto, puffing out my majestic furry chest, and flexing my.....oh no.....yikes..... Appalling!
It was then that I realized Locke had, for once, had my best interest at heart. You see, 3 1/2 years ago when I arrived in Arizona, I had done what any logical bear would have done. I went on a diet to thin my blood and enhance my "swimsuit physique." I'm a sucker for the latest Facebook trends and immediately joined Beachbody! Instead of scarfing down Cheetohs and guzzling copious amounts of Dr. Pepper, I nibbled on kale chips and sipped La Croix. I had to find a way to survive the stifling 120 degree summers.
If I showed up at my cousin's house in AK wearing my board shorts, drinking flavored seltzer water and eating kale chips, the encounter would be less than hospitable, more like inhospitable. Worse, I had basically become a hairless cat. I'd lost more insulation in the last 3 1/2 years!
I thanked Locke for his judicious decision to disturb my slumber. He was right. I needed to physically prepare.
Time for "RBR." Yeeeeesssss, Robust Body Regimen. ALBERT will meet Alaska on equal terms.
Albert, CSBF
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