Dear buzzing bees, today i will be writing about the point from the view of a horse during the civil war.

Dearest Robert, its hot and moist and I'm hungry and tired. You ride me all day and barely let me sleep, i don't enjoy the hours, and i could do without the gunshots and artillery constantly ringing in my ears. I don't care that we conquered pickets charge, oh wait we didn't. Whats the point of this war anyway oh Robert? I dream of rolling in hay and eating apples as red as roses. The saddles are scratchy and my hooves are in pain, oh Robert why do i do it? Is it because i yearn for the day where i can go back and see Jezebel. Where we can retire in the barn i was promised. Oh Jezebel my Jezebel i yearn to run along your side and graze with our foals. But until the war is over i have a duty. A duty that binds me to the same treatment as those who the north are fighting for. Just another cog in the machine, trying to make it home in one piece. Oh Robert, Oh Jezebel, Oh Abe, Oh Jeff, Oh War, Oh Pride, why? Why do we do it? The fighting, the mistreatment. One day, one day.

Love,

Traveler