IS THERE A POWER STRUGGLE BETWEEN THE SQUIRRELS AND CHASECHOMPS?

Hi Arthur, 

My name is Maris Barkingrowler, and I am new to the world, (almost 9 months old). 

I must say, in my short existence, I have learned a great many things from your posts, but I am seeking some additional explanations, if you could be so kind. Confusing to me is this riddle…

My lady two legs let me walk her down the road where I saw a chase chomp with a squirrel in its mouth! My first thought was WTF!? Is there some kind of rebellion going on that I am not aware of? 

I searched the interwebs, as fast as my paws would allow for an ATBA News flash, hoping for some clarity, and I couldn’t find anything. I was in shock since this was only two weeks after the announcement that the Airedale Rescue Society of Fort Erie was a fraud and a secret front for the “SquirCat Sausage Company.” (Which by the way has given me many nightmares. It was only yesterday my two legs woke me from a shaking, whimpering nightmare regarding this travesty!) 

Are you aware of a coup d’état between the Squirrels and the Chase Chomps? 

P.S. There is a creamsicle Chase Chomp outside my window right now taunting me. I may only be 9 months old, but I have an uncontrollable urge to play with it very, VERY, VERY vigorously! Is this normal???

Dear Maris:

You have been hereby appointed Major Maris BarkinGrowler in the Central Intelligence Airegency.  Thank you for your advance information.

As you are finding out, Squirrels and ChaseChomps are not to be trusted.  Oh, the ChaseChomp INSIDE your house can be domesticated, but still they cannot be trusted.  It's a good idea to remind even those entities that BACON can even be made from ChaseCho

mps (it won't taste too good, but it would still crunch very satisfyingly).

I thank you for the information and the photo:

The 2Legs sometimes say that "There is no honour among thieves."  I have no idea what that means.

But I do know that both Squirrels and ChaseChomps cannot be trusted, so it was inevitable that they would turn on each other.

Another of our undercover operatives saw a ChaseChomp reacting violently to a Squirrel who was ordering her around:

So we know that theirs is an uneasy and turbulent alliance (I have to say that I myself might hesitate taking on that bitch).

Soldier, you always, ALWAYS be on your guard:  If you ever see this near you, then run:

This is the one who has been foretold by Calvin Th'Airedale:  this is The Evil One who will come to usher in the BarkALotAlopalypse.

Those will be dark times.

As to the Creamsicle ChaseChomp:  be patient...your time will come.

Stay hungry, my young friend.

Yours,

Arthur TheBad Airedale

WHY WERE THEY BOUNCING?

Dear Arthur,  Why Were They Bouncing?

I’m really confused about something that happened last night.

I had been restless.  My bed didn’t feel right, so I kept getting off and on it about forty-two eleventeen times (not sure, I don’t count so good).  Then I started biting that itchy spot on my tail for awhile.

Just when I was about to get into a nice extended session of crotch licking, I heard some strange sounds and thumping upstairs.  

“Buglars!”  I thought.  “BUGLARS are in the house!”

I knew about BUGLARS because Percy the Wiener 4Legs had warned me about them.  Percy said they grab all your treats and thump things.  He said they mostly come at night.

So I growled, a deep growl in my deepest threatening Chihuahua voice, my fierce bulging eye about to pop out.  And softly - oh, so softly - I went up the upsteps.

The sounds were coming from the 2Legs’ Sleep Room.  There were bloodcurdling screams and moans.

I crept into the room, ready to latch my lethal teeth (tooth, actually) into the BUGLAR’s ankle and take him down.

But there was no BUGLAR.

Instead, there were only both of my 2Legs on the SleepBoard bouncing up and down.  And they were saying things like “Oh!  Oh!  Oh!”  and “More!” and “Wanda!” and “Yes!  Yes!  Yes, Bill, Yes!”  And the SleepBoard was banging against the wall and they looked like they were playing BITEYFACE with each other.  

It was very strange for my 2Legs to act that way.

And they did not say “Treat” or “Walk,” so I did not know what was going on.

And no BUGLAR, as I said.

So I went back downstairs and peed in a dark corner to show my great displeasure.

Arthur, what was that all about?

Sincerely,

Spike the Chihuahua 

Dear Spike:

You are DUM.

That is called a RHUMPUS RUCKUS.  That is the way 2Legs wrassle.

And do not be surprised if some time goes by and another 2Legs is in the house - a small, stinky one.  It happens.

Now leave me alone here in Jail.

Arthur the BadAiredale

CALVIN, THERE'S NOT MUCH TIME

Dear Calvin Th'Airedale,

There’s not much time, I think.

I’m over at the PeeNews Wall on Dufferin Street for posting breaking stories.  I don’t know if your 2Legs still brings you here on walks; I haven’t smelled your posts for a long time.

Everything’s a mess…a mess.

Sage left me awhile ago after she caught me sniffing that wiener dog.  I swear that I was confused and was just trying to figure out which end was which.  

But she left anyway and is travelling all over the place as a high-flying show dog.  Once I thought I saw her in a box in the house; she was in one of those boxes that shine light and have pictures and sound.  I jumped up to kiss her, but she was gone and I couldn’t even smell her.  It was depressing.

At that point I started to think about my life.

I have always done what I wanted.  I never hesitated on being obnoxious to anyone.  I chewed up whatever I wanted, peed on anything that suited me.

But without Sage, life is empty.  Dogs walk by along the river, cats come up to the window.  I don’t care.  I just curl up on the floor.

And then something else happened.

My 2Legs OldMan isn’t here anymore.

He stopped taking me to the dog park, not that I cared anymore.  The walks we went on got slower and slower and finally stopped. 

Then other people started coming into the house.  OldMan stayed in bed most of the time.  They fed him.  They fed me and let me in and out.  No one rubbed my ears and made me groan, no one hugged me and sang me songs…no one played with me.

And then they took OldMan away one day.  He was not moving.

There is a pain I feel that I can’t begin to describe.  It is everything, it is everything.

I wish he would come back.  I miss rubbing up against him, moving through his legs and wagging my tail, looking up at him and laughing.  I miss biting his butt when he left the house.  I miss wrassling with him.  I miss kissing his hand, kissing his face.  Miss rolling around in his bed and cuddling with him.  He wasn’t so bad, that 2Legs OldMan.

I realize that though I gave him grief so much of the time, I love him and need him.  But he hasn’t come back for a lot of lights and darks.

So I made up my mind:  I would find him.  If he won’t come back to me, I will go to him and be with him wherever he goes.

Today a stranger came into the house and took me by my collar.  When we got to the door, I broke free and ran to look for OldMan.

I have been looking all day in 2Legs yards and on different streets.  I’m exhausted and don’t know where to go.

So I’m here and leaving you this note.

A truck just pulled up and stopped.  I’m too tired to bark.  A 2Legs just got out with a stick.  The truck has the letters SPCA on it.  He is coming closer.  The stick has a string or something on it, like a loop.

He puts it over my head and starts to pull.  He pulls me over to the truck, though I don’t want to go with him.  He opens the back of the truck.

Maybe he will take me to OldMan.

He pulls me into the back of the truck.

The truck is dark…

Arthur TheBad Airedale

WHY ARE 2LEGS UPSET AT MY EATING HABITS?

This latest letter asking for Badvice is from Echo, who owns the 2Legs Josef A.B. in South Africa (I think that's a couple blocks over on Dufferin Street).  He writes:

Dear nefarious Arthur TheBad Airedale:  I am an educated K9 much like yourself. 

Only smarter.

I have extended conversations with my esteemed colleague, Aves the Ibis.

Its during this educational talks that I get a glimpse of the true Biteyface meadow all dogs live in.

I am an practitioner of the fine cuisine Coprophagia.  Although I can't seem to sway my neighbors (real downtown dogs unfortunately) or even my colleague Aves, to accompany me in my delightful meals, I must know if there are other K9 dogizens that appreciate the finer things in life.

I would like to know what 2legs problems are also.  They go on something awful when I decide to have en enlightened meal.

Do you think they would like me to share? 

I would like your esteemed opinion on these matters, dear nefarious Arther.

Although I understand that I might need to filter through your meaningless noise, I'm sure I can extract some useful information,

I am quite intelligent.

Echo the educated.

Dear Echo,

I’m glad that you wrote.  We’ve been waiting for a high quality smartass such as yourself.

The phenomenon you refer to is not “Coprophagia”, as the 2Legs call it, but an exquisite combination of sport and culinary arts called “turdfing.”  That is, one goes along in the yard or wherever harvesting the treasures left behind.

The 2Legs seem to assume that we are missing some nutrients or something when one of us does that.

That is not the case.  

At ATBA Enterprises (Arthur TheBad Airedale Enterprises), our scientists and technicians have found that 4Legs who do this actually have a heightened sense of smell and taste.  They so enjoy their food that they keep trying to recreate their last meal, to recapture the essence of what made it so good.

The solution is this:  MASTICATION.  

At our laboratories, we hired interns to masticate in various states and situations.

This is what we found.

The more a 4Legs masticates, the better.  It makes the meals a more memorable experience.

So I encourage everyone to masticate as much as possible.  Masticate in the morning, masticate at midday, masticate in the evening, masticate especially at night.

I masticate as much as possible myself.  I love to masticate at dinner in front of my family.  I absolutely adore making loud pleasure sounds while masticating!

My very favourite is masticating with my love Sage; we masticate together as we look into each other’s eyes (I just posted a video of this yesterday).

So to conclude, turdfing is fine, but you shortchange your dining experience because you do not sufficiently masticate.

Good luck to you, and I hope that you publish lots and lots of photos and videos of yourself masticating.

Sincerely,

Arthur TheBad Airedale

WHAT ARE THOSE THINGS?

Dear Arthur,

I have not been on this planet very long, only 6 months, but perhaps you could clear up a mystery for me.

The 2Legs have these “creatures” that live with us. 

They are not dogs, but smaller, and make a “mawing” sound. They never go outside, nor do they want to even though a leash is provided, and they are allowed on the bed and the counter AND they get special smelly food. 

However, the big mystery is this, they also have a box sort of thing that they go into a couple times a day and leave food nuggets in some sort of sand. The 2Legs are forever scooping these nuggets out and throwing them away. However when I go in there to eat a few (I mean why waste food) I get yelled out.

Why throw away perfectly good food? I don’t get it?


Thank you.

Sincerely, Constantine (Stan)

Dear Stan:

You are so right - what a waste of food!  But I will tell you how to solve this problem.  This is perhaps the easiest matter I've ever had to solve with Badvice.

Have you ever read the story of "The Goose That Laid the Golden Egg?"  Of course not!  You're a dog, and so am I.  Neither one of us has read it.  So the story goes like this:  some goose ate a bunch of golden eggs so a 2Legs cut it open to get them back.  But they were too late.

But it's not too late for you!  You see those food treats going into the box, so there's lots more in those things.

Here is what those things are:  they are called ChaseChomps.  You chase them and chomp them.

They come in Chewy and Crunchy.  Sometimes both.

And they come in all kinds of flavours, too:  there's chocolate, and those grey/white ones are liquorice flavoured.  But by far my favourite are the orange/white Creamsicle flavours.

The very, very best thing is that they love for you to Chomp them.  Okay?  Some like you to Chase them before you Chomp them.  Others punch you in the face and make a sound like bacon sizzling (mmmmmm...bacon).

But the point is that you should Chomp them to save your 2Legs the trouble of throwing away all the good food that you could eat.

Bon Appetit!

Arthur TheBad Airedale

I HURT

Dear Arthur TheBad Airedale:

I hurt.

When I was little, I used to run.  Oh, how I ran!  Everything was a blur because I never stopped.

The world was my Biteyface then!  So many smells, so many squirrels to chase.  There were no toys safe from me, not even a Kong.

Whenever I saw my 2Legs family, my heart burst every time.  How I loved them!  And they took me on walks that went on forever.  Sidewalks, parks, hills, streams, forests - we did it all together.

They let me go on rides in the Zoomer with them, and when the window was open I stuck my head out and the wind made my lips and my ears go flurpy-flap.

Every day was happy.

But lately I hurt.

I don’t run much anymore.  It even hurts to walk…I can only move on three legs.

And there’s more.  

Something inside me hurts bad.  It hurts deep inside.  Sometimes it hurts so bad I feel crazy.  Yesterday my young 2Legs touched me in a sore spot while I was napping and I screamed and then snapped at her.

Even worse than the pain inside me was seeing the look on her face.  I was so sad, but didn’t know how to say I was sorry.

The older 2Legs keep looking at me and talking quietly.  And I don’t feel like eating much of anything, not even tasty treats.

Arthur, I’m tired.  I feel as if I need to go somewhere, but I’m too tired to get up and go there.

I’m so tired, Arthur.  And I’m afraid.

Calvin

Dear Calvin:

I know.

I know you’re tired and I know you hurt.

Soon it will be over.  You will go to a place where it’s warm.  The wind blows gently and the grass is soft and has jumping things.  You won’t believe the smells.

You’ll make new friends right away.  You can play Biteyface all you want, or not at all.

The water in the stream is cold and clear, and you can splash all you want.

You will never be lonely, and you’ll never be sad.

But first you must cross a Bridge to get there.

Your 2Legs will help you.  They will take you to the Doctor who has looked at you before and scratched your ears.  They will be crying, because they do not want to say goodbye to you.

But they have to say goodbye to you to help you get over the Bridge.

So they will be with you when the Doctor sticks you with a Sleep Pin.  It will hurt for a second, then you will feel woozy and go to sleep.

As you fall asleep, they will tell you how much they love you.  They will say it over and over.  As you close your eyes, make sure that you kiss their hand to let them know it’s okay.  They love you so very much and need to know you'll be okay.

Don’t be afraid.

I will be with you when you awake and show you everything.

And someday I will bring your 2Legs to you so you will be together always.  Always together.

So sleep.  Sleep, my Little One.

Love, Arthur TheBad Airedale

It's Not Easy Being Green

Dear Arthur:

You caught my attention recently when you answered the dog who ate the book HAMLET.  I paid attention because I am in show business myself.

You may know me; my name is Kermit.  I am rich, famous, and married to a hot pig.  I have lots of money.

But even I have problems.

Mine is that I get no respect.

You see, it’s not easy being green.  No one takes you seriously, even if you’re the Hulk.  People laugh at me.  I’ve never been nominated for an Oscar award.  No one has ever  asked me to play Hamlet or Superman.

What should I do?

Kermit

Dear Kermit,

Come closer.

I’d like to rip off your button eyes and pull out your stuffing, you poor excuse for an amphibian.

Closer…aaahhhhh…thank you.

Sincerely,

Arthur TheBad Airedale

HAMLET DOESN'T TASTE VERY GOOD

Dear Arthur,

I think I ate something that I shouldn’t have.

One of my 2Legs is something called a “teacher.”  He has lots of books in the house and keeps looking inside them for something (maybe something to eat?).  Anyhow, he kept talking about this one book he called HAMLET.  

I like ham and omelets.  So when he wasn’t looking I ripped out full the pieces inside it looking for the ham.  I ate a lot of the pieces.

I did not find any ham.

But ever since then I’ve been barking very strangely.  A day later, I saw a Chihuahua and yelled, “Thou varlet!  Begone, thou fustilarian!”  She looked at me strangely and muttered something about loony tunes.

The next week I said things like “hugger-mugger” and “you churlish boil-brained bugbear!”  A cat laughed at me.  

I feel like such a gore-bellied, flap-mouthed bumbailey.  What should I do?

(Signed) Herb

Dear Herb,

First:  go away.

But since you won’t,  here’s your solution.

Eat a sock.  One of those shiny ones.  They go right through you and clean you out.  Believe me; I’ve eaten many a sock.

Now really - get out of your zwodder and stop acting like such a pox-marked clot pole.

Arthur

DEAR ARTHUR...I'VE BEEN DIGGING

DEAR ARTHUR - I’M DIGGING

Dear Arthur,

My 2Legs keep getting angry at me because I have been digging in the yard.

I don’t know why they yell at me.  

They have a brand new little 2Legs that cries and poops all the time.  

When I go to sniff it, they start screaming really loud. 

The little 2Legs smells really bad and never plays, not even when I bring my favourite squeaky toy and drop it in front of it.

The big 2Legs also don’t play with me any more.  They used to hug me and wrassle with me, but now they just say to go outside.

So I dig.

I dig because I’m bored.

I dig because I’m upset.

I dig because maybe I’ll find something good at the bottom of one of the holes.  I never do, though it smells pretty good down there.

The mastiff down the street says that the little 2Legs is going to be around for a long, long time.  I don’t know if I like that.

So I dig.  And the big 2Legs keep yelling at me even more.

Arthur, what should I do?

Bruce the Digging Dale

Dear Bruce the Digging Dale:

That pink smelly thing is called a BABY.  It will be around for a long time.  It will learn to love you and kiss you more than the big 2Legs.  Just wait.

As far as the digging goes, keep digging.  They love it when you dig.  Don’t be fooled by all their yelling.  Go up to them smiling and laugh and wag your tail,

Here’s another thing you can do that will please them.

Go into their dirty clothes and pick out the stinkiest piece you can find.  Then drag it all over the house and chew on it in front of them, especially when they have someone new come over.  They get all excited and wave their upper tails all over the place as they loudly tell you how wonderful you are.

See how I'm doing it?  Be sure to chew and slobber all over the crotch area, then gallop around the house in a great game of chase.

You can thank me later.

Yours,

Arthur TheBad Airedale

Dear Arthur:

There is a squirrel in the tree in my yard.  He keeps throwing nuts at me.  He’s really mean, too - he says things like “Why don’t you come when you’re called, you Cocker Spaniel!” and “You smell like Shih Tzu!”

This is what he looks like:

What should I do?  All the other Airedales on Facebook are laughing at me and calling me “Wilbur!”

Signed

Tostito El Frado the WonderDale

Dear Tostito:

With your stupid name you deserve to be abused.

However, before you run off to join the circus as a clown, you need to get your game face on and put him in his place.

Try this one:

If that doesn’t work, you can borrow this:

I have found this particularly effective in resolving problems with neighbours.  It shoots bath bubbles; most everyone runs off because they think they'll get a bath any moment.

Hope this helps.  If it doesn't, I really don't care much.

Sincerely yours, Arthur TheBad Airedale