The closest allegory to Afghanistan I can find on camp are
the local cats. Yes, the cats. They can clearly fend for themselves, meow
only when a coalition member walks by them, and know for the most part that
once they do, we will give them something valuable from our stocks. Yup…that is this place.
We have a group of folks on camp who are members of the
Feline Force Protection Agency (FFPA) that look after the cats. They gave them
all names, provide checkups, shots and set up and stock their feeding
centers. You can even take one home to
the US for a few grand if you want to.
Presumably, these cats are cared for to be the mousers of the camp and
keep rabid strays away. There are signs
all over camp not to feed them, but who can resist. (I can).
The reality is that most are overweight, can barely climb or run, yet do
a fine job of keeping weak outsiders away from the cushy life here. They have
learned well.
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