We Survived

Hello, this is Chester L. W. Spaniel, chairman of the Squeaky Party, and this is another edition of 

The Daily Bone.

OK. We survived Black Friday. From what I saw on the TV news, it was a madhouse: crowds of people pushing and shoving each other to get into stores. Scary stuff! My humans told me that this mass buying frenzy was not because of a big disaster coming. They’re doing something called Christmas Shopping, and maybe buying things like squeaky toys. Well, buying squeaky toys is good. Everybody needs a squeaky toy. But why do you need a special day like Black Friday to buy a new squeaky toy?

And what’s up with that big fat guy with the beard and fuzzy clothes? He keeps talking about making a list and checking it twice. He’s going to find out who’s naughty or nice. (Does that include doggies too?) Then, there are lists of what everybody wants as presents … hey, if that guy is the one giving all the presents, then why are all those humans crowding into stores on Black Friday to buy even more presents? This just confuses the heck out of me! I mean, how many presents do we really need?

My esteemed colleague Joseph (Joey dog) Spaniel, who has been around longer than I, has a few more comments about Christmas in regards to pets. First, we can expect an increase of yum yums in the house, but he warns about food that is made from chocolate, which is poisonous to doggies. Second, for some reason the humans like to dress their pets up in costumes. Yikes! I thought we were past Halloween. While some pets absolutely hate being dressed in costumes, others don't mind. Most of us totally don't see the point of it. Third, sometimes the humans bring trees into the house at this time of year. What? Why the heck would you want to have a tree in your house? Well, we doggies will just have to tack that onto our list of weird things humans do. Oh, and one more thing: Joey dog says that doggies are absolutely not allowed to pee on said tree. Huh? And that's a memo.

Dusty from Ohio says, the hat is OK as long
as I get yum yums for wearing it.

Lane in Florida couldn't be less enthusiastic.

Joey dog, again, it's OK if yum yums ensue.

Squirrel: How Do I Hate Thee?

This is The Daily Bone and I’m your humble doggie host Chester L. W. Spaniel.

In light of yesterday’s TDB about hate, my learned colleague Joseph (Joey dog) Spaniel and I had a discussion about how hate is taking over the internet, the human population of this country, and the world. I said that hate is a bad thing. So how can we doggies justify the fact that we routinely chase squirrels, enjoy watching videos about dizzy squirrels on spinning bird feeders, and squirrels being flung into outer space by home made catapults, and report regularly on our on-going mission to keep squirrels out of our yard? Oddly enough, the answer is: we don’t hate squirrels. We love them! Now before all you doggies out there start growling in disagreement, consider this: if it wasn’t for squirrels, what would you be having fun doing? As you probably know, doggies are hunters. Yes, all of you toy poodles and pampered yorkies out there, you too have hunting instincts. In the stone age, before humans domesticated doggies, it used to be of utmost importance that we catch other animals to eat or else we would die of starvation. In response to that, we evolved excellent senses of hearing, sight, and smell, and strong, fast bodies with which to find and catch food. Just because our humans feed us now, doesn’t mean we’ve lost that instinct. We are still hardwired to chase things, and enjoy doing it.

Joey dog and I made a list of the things we love: eating yum yums, food watching, sleeping on the couch, feeling happy when our humans arrive home, playing with squeaky toys, and especially chasing squirrels. Thank you, squirrels, for your persistence in raiding our bird feeders, our pear tree, the compost pile, and the hawthorn tree. Thank you for running so fast, getting stuck in the silver maple tree in our back yard, and providing hours of barking activity, exercise, and entertainment. Chasing squirrels is the high point of our day! And that’s a memo.

Hate It

Hello. This is The Daily Bone and I’m your faithful and horrified doggie reporter Chester L. W. Spaniel. I have a very alarming subject to talk about today: hate.

When did we become such a nation of haters? You can easily find a website or facebook that features nothing but people stating how much they hate someone or something. Just put in keywords: hate + choose one of the following: Republican, Democrat, Libertarian, Liberal, Hispanic, Asian, Black, White, women, gays, immigrants, cats, dogs, business owner (aka Capitalist) Christian, Muslim, or Jew, and you will come up with lots of stuff! In there are hateful cartoons, swear words, strong language, threats of physical violence, wishes for death and misfortune, and pictures of the hated people labeled as saying obscene things that they didn’t actually say. Sometimes the message is “we hate them because they hate us, so let’s get together on this site and talk about how much we hate them.” This hatred for a particular person or group then gets blown way out of proportion to the point of demonizing. Really? REALLY? Do you really hate someone so much that you have to spend large chunks of your time writing and talking about your hate, and then posting it on the internet for everyone to see? Have you actually met the person and talked to him about the ideas you hate so much? Is the hate message even true? Have you actually listened to his ideas before you labeled it as something to hate? Most importantly, are you forming your own opinions, or are you just following the hate message in your chosen site? It’s gotten to the point where elections are won, not by the candidate who is liked the most, but by the one who is hated the least. I thought this was the United States, not the Divided States. I thought the internet would be used to bring people together with the goal of raised understanding, not the sharing of toxic hatred and mob mentality. If you are guilty of participating in hate talk, then shame on you! You are setting examples for, and encouraging terrorists and bullies everywhere. Go sit in the corner, and no yum yums for you for the rest of the day. And that’s a memo.

Droned Out

Good afternoon. I am Chester L. W. Spaniel, your dutiful doggie host, and you’ve tuned into The Daily Bone.

Well, ladies and gentlemen and doggies, pretty soon all of the junk we order online will be delivered by drones. Just what we need: the used squeaky toy we got on ebay will be delivered right to our door by a little helicopter flying machine within thirty minutes. Thank goodness we will never have to sit around biting our nails for three to seven days waiting for the USPS to deliver the Cocker Spaniel Puppies calendar we ordered from Amazon! Wow, my copy of Barking Dogs Jingle Bells, that I ordered at the last minute, will get here before Christmas! (I wonder what the shipping cost will be?)

My practical minded associate Joseph (Joey dog) Spaniel and I had a discussion about this. We came up with a few problems. First, considering the number of things humans buy online, the skies would soon be filled with millions of these drones. Imagine the noise they would make! Imagine the terror and confusion battalions of drones would cause for unsuspecting birds everywhere. We also wonder if these drones will be affected by bad weather, which we have a lot of here in Western New York. Just think about what would happen if a big storm suddenly rolled in from Lake Ontario and mixed up those millions of drones. What a mess! I don’t think I would ever want to go outside again. What if they got stuck in the trees? What if they smash through the windows, or into cars while they’re driving, or kids on their bikes? If there are enough of them, they might cause their own kind of climate change by blocking out the sun. Oh no! This is way too frightening for us doggies. We’re going to go hide under the bed now. And that’s a memo.

Lessons in Anthropology

Good day everybody. I’m Chester L. W. Spaniel, your humble doggie host, and this is 

The Daily Bone.

It has been brought to my attention that I’ve been neglecting my political commentary in The Daily Bone lately. Well, it seems there’s been nothing but the same old thing on the news the past few weeks, and I imagine you’ve gotten just as sick of it as I have. I thought you might, instead, enjoy reading about my adventures frolicking in the snow. The local climate has been changing a lot, even if the political climate isn’t! In the meantime, I’ve been doing some interesting reading on anthropology, which is the study of humans and their cultures through the ages.

OK, so here’s a great new vocabulary word I picked up: kleptocracy. This happens when gigantic groups of humans try to get along, and help each other by trading for goods (like yum yums and squeaky toys) and services (like professional property protection by yours truly) and then designate a leader to manage everything. Eventually the leader gets greedy, has delusions of grandeur, and thinks he is connected to a god of some kind. He convinces all the people that they have to give him massive amounts of goods—some of which he lavishes on his friends who are supposedly helping to keep track of things—in order for the god to listen to him and bring prosperity to all. This gives him the right to boss everyone around and steal from them, in the form of either valuable goods, labor, or in a sneakier way called taxes. After all, who wants to risk upsetting the gods? Heaven forbid there comes a flood or a storm!

Sooner or later, however, people get wise to this scam, especially when their children start starving. Nobody can actually keep a hurricane from happening, or a volcano from exploding, no matter how chummy he is with the eminent god du jour. They overthrow the current kleptomaniac, replace him with their own leader, and then come up with all new ways to justify their own version of kleptocracy. You see, it always starts out with good intentions, but eventually it all ends up the same.

There’s a brand new kind of kleptocracy going on now. There is still a god involved, but this time he’s called a celebrity. Celebrities are immensely popular because they tend to look like models of perfection—slim, young looking, have sex appeal, a good hair-do, sparkling white teeth, wear high fashion clothing and shoes, and have fabulous parties to show themselves off. They have the power to make even the poorest people give money to them, and believe everything that spouts out of their mouths whether it is true or not. They often demonize and bully their opponents to make themselves look better. They preach high ideals that appeal to the masses, but they themselves usually don’t follow them. Those who disagree are still required to pay money (taxes) because the celebrities tend to influence and win popularity contests. Oops, I mean elections.

We doggies can’t really do anything about this human societal trend. We hope that you try to keep this concept in mind the next time you pay $40 for a movie ticket, $300 for a pair of sneakers, or vote for a candidate who makes the most preposterous promises, while spending vast amounts of your tax money to bash his opponent. And that’s a memo. 

Excuse me, but I have to go hide my squeaky toys now.

Special Report

We interrupt your regularly scheduled program to bring you an urgent update on the Evil Squirrel Cartel. I’m your energetic doggie host Chester L. W. Spaniel reporting from the upstairs office. There was an evil squirrel in the birch tree right outside our window! Below is footage of my valiant efforts to scare the perpetrator away.

Here is when I first spotted that bushy-tailed varmint. You can see, I have already fogged up the window from barking. Usually this tactic works and the squirrel retreats.

When this didn’t work, we opened the window so that the miscreant was able to hear the full force of my barking effort. 

However, this arrogant criminal was not easily deterred. In fact, he sat and watched me from a branch while I continued to bark vigorously.

Finally, after more concerted barking, the evil squirrel turned tail and left the premises. Hopefully the Evil Squirrel Cartel will think twice before invading our territory again. 

I have now positioned myself so that I can maintain a constant watch on the upper tree branches in front of our house to be sure the Evil Squirrel Cartel doesn't try another attack. As you probably know, squirrels have a one hundred percent rate of recidivism when it comes to property invasion with intent to steal bird seeds, hawthorn berries, and other valuable commodities.

You can be sure I will keep you posted if and when further trespassing occurs. We now return you to your regularly scheduled program.

Cyber Monday

Greetings, and welcome to The Daily Bone. I’m your humble doggie host Chester L. W. Spaniel.

Here we go again. It’s another ominous day: Cyber Monday. The word, cyber, brings up all kinds of frightful ideas about evil robots, high tech aliens, and scary movies: The Matrix, Star Wars, Terminator, The X-Files, etc. My humans say their email accounts are suddenly filled with junk mail about cyber sales. Oh no! Does this mean they will be buying one of those robot vacuum cleaner thingies that drives around the house terrorizing pets all day? Perhaps I’d better hide under the bed again, and hope it doesn’t suck up any of my squeaky toys.

Cyber squirrels?

I asked my erudite colleague Joseph (Joey dog) Spaniel what he thought about that. He said all we’d have to do was sit on the furniture where the roomba can’t reach. That didn’t sound too comforting to me, so he reminded me that there hasn’t been a vacuum cleaner yet that hasn’t been defeated by our secret formula dust bunnies made out of our shed fur, squeaky toy stuffing, and dirt we track in from the back yard. Why else would the regular vacuum cleaner be sitting in the garage gathering dust while our humans use a broom to sweep? He says he’s sure that a robot vacuum cleaner would be quickly clogged and end up moldering on the junk heap of demoralized machines.

Well, that's a relief, I think.