"Killing Granola"

It had been five years since my last encounter with them. I had thought that I had rid my life of that element, but they found me. A new location, a new part of the world, across town they did indeed arrive. How could this be? With the abundance of feline patrols constant in the area and the protection firmly set in place in the event that an encounter like this one should arise again. I had long felt that the examples that were made of there kind in the past set a precedent to which it was universally known to all of there species to avoid this man at all cost. There were many deaths, some swifter than others, but they had always died. Even when they won, they lost. The prize was always there for them and they always took it. This time, it’s different. It seems as though they have regrouped, retooled, preplanned and have gotten clever. The methods of mayhem in the past are no longer up to date with the standards of this world. Times change, people grow up and get lackadaisical, and the enemy gets smarter. Last time they were after anything they could score; peppermints, cigars, sunflower seeds, candles. Yes, candles. Surprised me too that wax would be something that they could feed off of or derive pleasure. They found the stash this time and it was too much for them to let go. They wanted more. The granola bars located in the bottom cabinet. The box was left open or shall I say, cracked and it must have an aroma with the sweet scent of chocolate chips in the air that proved unbearable to not dig right in. They hit the first box and there is no timetable to how long it had been since there offensive on the abode and its contents. They left evidence, waste that is, which alarmed me to there presence and swift action was put into effect to counter there offensives with an offensive of my own.

A day had passed, maybe a week, nothing. No signs, no action at the locales where travel had been observed, no evidence of a kill. A kill is what I have been known for when dealing with vermin of this sort and a kill is what I will get, regardless of the timetable. My first offensive had been counterattacked with an offensive of there own, grits this time. No telling how old the box was, but they were attracted to the smell of its contents as well. The box was closed, but that was merely a speedbump in there path. It’s like crack for them, once they get a taste of where the good stuff is, they always come back for more. They gnawed through the box, got happy with a package of the instant stuff in the cheese flavored variety. I disposed of there evidence and launched another brutal offensive with what they want in the first place, granola. If they get it this time, they have earned it and I will tip my cap to them and come back with an even stronger offensive. I have declared this critter to be named “Granola” since he has a penchant for the stuff. The war rages, there are a dozen traps set in the location where the attacks against my liberty and freedom were made. It is only a matter of time. Time to feed, time to get hungry, and once you realize that the favorable smell which brought you into this situation is there for the taking, it will be that same favorable smell that takes your life in this situation. It is just one, no other evidence for it to be more than one, but then again, one can cover a great deal of ground and destroy a plentiful assortment of snacks. This is not over; the assailant is still at large. It is hunted, much in the manner that it hunts for survival, it is hunted for death.