Zootopia Short Stories: A Veteran's Wish

Off duty, ZPD Officer Bob Krumpanski spends some time at his War Veterans Post and tells his heartfelt wish. This is a very short story I wrote in honor of Veterans Day. To all those veterans who may be reading this story, thank you for your service.

This is a very short story that I hobbled together tonight after talking to a neighbor who was on his way to his American Legion Post, he was in Desert Storm. This Saturday is Veterans Day, November 11th and it is also the anniversary of the end of World War I, which formally ended at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month in 1918. It was once called the war to end all wars, but we all know it didn't.

I do not own the rights to Zooptopia or any of its characters. This story was written solely for the reader's enjoyment and without any profitable purposes. The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this story are fictitious.

"What's the matter Bob?" the bartender asked as he reached over to refill the rhino's beer glass. "All the other guys are over at the table having a good time, why don't you join them?"

Bob Krumpanski looked up at the much younger antelope. "It's those new guys, they're just calves and it reminds me of what old Larry once told me all those years ago as he sat here on this very chair," he replied.

"You mean the bison?" the bartender asked. "Wasn't he that guy from long ago, the one they called Alpha because he had been here so long and didn't he die over fifteen years ago at a ripe old age? If I recall right, he was one of the first members of this post."

"Yeah that was him and he once told me a story which I'll never forget," the rhino answered as he stared at his beer. "He told me that when they bought this building they were young and fresh from the muddy trenches, just damn glad to be home. This was their shelter and a place they could all gather, to laugh and cry together. Then one day it wasn't just theirs alone, his oldest son was sitting here next to him. He was back home from the war torn beaches of far away and his son wasn't the only one, so they had to expand the building because there were more of his son's generation needing to fit in here. Then his youngest son went away and never returned from the icy mountains, but others did. That night he pointed to his grandson sitting over there, a suvivor of the jungles and he said to me that as his generation passes away, it seemed that too many more were taking their place."

"Wars are like that," the bartender replied as he washed several glasses.

"The point is, that when I came home from the jungle, I had the same wish that he had," the rhino sighed.

"And what's that old friend?" the bartender asked.

"That mine would be the last generation of veterans," Bob replied as he sipped on his beer. "The last veterans of the last war, it was just a dream."