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Sir Chewy Verses Sir Stunk-a-Lot

The Backyard Wars: Sir Chewy Verses Sir Stunk-a-lot

Ah, it's time to go out in the yard for my daily sit.

A bird said, "Don't you mean walk?"

Nope, I mean a sit. I follow the way of the sumo wrestler.

I score myself as many treats as I can

To become the fattest dog in the land, relative to size.

My dream is to have a need for a skateboard or be forever carried by Mommy.

Yeah, so I go out to do my sit as this yard is my yard.

I protect it near; I protect it far.

I protect it and they know it unless they are new.

Birds migrating all learn it in time.

This yard is my yard.

I protect it near; I protect it far.

And here I am on the perch of the triple tier deck.

The king of all I survey.

But what is this thing sauntering in?

And here the chase begins.

I run and I chase that thing, mostly black with a white streak.

I chased him and I chased him.

His deadly stinky weapon he did deploy.

But I chased him and I chased him.

And another time I was hit straight in the face.

But I kept it going and on the third we both retreated.

The creature knew who was the boss.

But I dubbed him Sir Stunk-a-lot for his valor.

I won the war as he never dare enter my kingdom again.

Sir Stunk-a-lot — in another world we might be friends.

yorkie chasing a skunk in a wodded yard.jpg
yorkie chasing after a groundhog in a snowy winter.jpg

Sir Chewy Verses The Groundhog

Ah, it’s winter, and it has become a winter wonderland.
As I follow the way of the sumo wrestler,
snow is the proper time.
The world is sleeping more,
so therefore so am I.
But the groundhog wants to ruin this.
Well, I am waiting for my worker,
to tell him to keep on shirking.
Every year he tries to come out early
and just ruin all my sleep.
How can I get to be
the biggest dog relative to size
if I don’t get proper wintry sleepy eye?
And I am here again on my throne,
as this day is special, don’t you know.
And here I am on the perch of the triple-tier deck,
the king of all I survey,
making sure that worker
stays down and in the hole.
They think he is scared of his shadow
around here.
He has not stayed above ground
for a ton of years.
And there he comes out, far too brave,
so this wrestler gave the chase.
He is scared of his shadow,
that is true:
the shadow is me sending him below ground.
Ah yes, another successful year.
It will be snowy for weeks
and get me a proper sleep.

Sir Chewy Verses
The Monster Possom

The nights, the nights,
they are sometimes filled with shadows,
they are sometimes filled with horrors,
but I am brave here inside the slider.

Ever since the Skunk War,
the queen quivers with some nightly fears,
but outside the glass I stare,
and I stare.

She is sure I’ll go berserk
on a monster
called the possum.

But I have never seen this fellow—
the monster so big,
the monster so white.

And there, to the feeders,
he gets up to go.
Those are for my sparring partners.

The way of the sumo wrestler
demands a few things:
a lot of eats,
a lot of sleep,
a small amount of exercise.

I am doing good on my scores of treats,
but here I am trying to get out of this glass.

But I give the monster a good stern look.
I think I've won the battle each time.

“Bye, monster possum.
You just stay away.”

yorkie in a vest standing at a slidding glass door at night.jpg
A yorkie in a yard holding regal council with squirels in a backyard.jpg

Sir Chewy Verses
The Squirrel Council


Ah, the winter sleep
Did a great thing
I put on a full pound
but all things need to stay in balance

Oh, sumo dogs like me,
working to be the biggest of their size,
demand stern negotiations
for treats,
for bones,
for great accommodations.

So now we go back out
and do the sit—
not a walk, that is for dogs
wanting to trim—
but all kingdoms demand
proper supervision.

But the council of squirrels
have demanded concession
to attempt the feeder on the porch.

Sometimes being me demands
some mental telepathy.
Sunflower seeds are their big issue—
Mom mixes them and they want a steady supply—
but, saying you see,
but their complaints
you can turn the consideration down without doing a thing.

They will come for peanuts,
corn, or about anything,
but a wise king knows
just what to say
to avoid a war.

Sir Chewy Verses
The Black Crow

Ah, here we are to another day of sitting.
Mom filled the feeders again;
it will bring along some new feathered friends.

They may land on their various things,
but a bird needs to learn the rules:
land on the feeder, not on the ground.

The ground is only allowed
when I quit the room,
provided they are part of the cleanup crews.
My sumo sparrers do make a mess.

Now here comes a big black one,
applying for position.

I watched him each time I came out.
Respect is something I demand.

Mom went and filled the bath.
No!!! The shame, I'll never live it down.

I don't do wet.
Wet demands a proper groomer.
I thought she learned a different time.
The crow-black head follows the hose.

Oh good, she knows I don't do wet.
The others do baths, gifted by the queen.

The birds find themselves properly tended,
and will do the cleanup from the sparring partner's mess.
Yes, I think I will retreat.
Wet can't be allowed outside.
A king does things with pride,
with proper attendees across the land.

crow.jpg

Sir Chewy Verses
The Ginger Cat

Another day, another sit,
but new neighbors have moved in.
A naughty thing has been happening.

​

Some of my birds have gone missing.
I have chased plenty, this is true,
but only for offenses, for failure to obey my rules.

​

But he has his kingdom,
I have mine.
Cat, you thing, stay on your side.
You rule there,
I rule here.

​

Mom comes out to fill her gifts to the staff,
make sure my spigot is nicely clean,
then asks me, same as always, if I want to come in.
And I do, but the birds declare there has been intrusion.

​

This must be answered.
So I stay outside longer than my usual.
I find a spot to hide and wait.

​

There comes the cat,
ginger with a tail very long,
but quickly it was on.

​

We went ten rounds on the lawn; it found itself up the tree,
and when Mom came out, she came out to my yard, got a ladder,
and took it down, while saying, “How did it get up there?”
She then escorted the fallen king away.

​

But the fraidy-cat left my kingdom alone.
But no matter, I'd have fought him.
Our grievance is ancient.
No cat is allowed in this dog's kingdom.

Sir Chewy Verses Sir Stunk-a-Lot

Mom has planted a small garden,
not that it has fruit and veg.
Flowers in the rocks,
and now flowing river.

​

Mom, why change the birds’ bath
to be a little river instead?
It took you several days to dig and make a flowing river.
Ah well, the extra workers will come soon enough.

​

It is the fifth day of applications
to be part of my river nation.
The cat over in the next house is plum envious.
We have sparring partners enough.

​

But her gardening is a little tough.
I don't like her getting her fingers dirty.
She needs clean hands to give me tummy rubs.

​

If I am a king, that means Mom’s higher royalty
in my estimation.
So here we are with my applications

when a bunny comes.


A bunny with a white tail asks to eat weeds.
I nodded and allowed him entry on a trial.

​

A month later the work has gone down.
The bunny has done me proud.
A king needs to know when to let
a bunny stay and go.

​

He will keep his place.

cat in a tree all night.jpg

Sir Chewy Verses
The Deer Spy

The river is flowing extra nice. 
Mom dug it to the fence, 
so now we have a new place to mind.
Deer are coming around at night.
What are their purpose in my kingdom?

​

There is a post. She is adding a salad of stuff and corn.
I do not understand this at all, not at all.

​

Wasting my coffers and treats for layabouts.
I need to figure this out,
so I asked them what they even do.
They promised to tell me of a cat's news.

​

Ah, a spy I can handle.
A spy I like.

​

But will their intelligence be a useful thing?
I didn't know for sure,
but they told me when I might want to go out
for a special night-time patrol.

​

Waking her up I dislike, but I did my bit,
and what, oh what, did I discover?

That cat was raiding yet again.

 

Cat, oh cat, you will learn I know all you do.

That cat was up the tree in no time.
A cat was a cold thing all morning.


And when my mom added the salt lick,the spies understood their service would be properly awarded.

Sir Chewy Verses
The Masked Bandit

Ah, the morning is so peaceful.
Time for the sit.

​

But ewe, what is this terrible stench?
My mother sighs deeply as she picks up the nasty stuff that smells so nasty many of us are grateful.

​

But what caused this?
There was some debris,
so maybe it was wind.

​

But the spies were alerted to give it a check.
We found out of a menace:a nighttime bandit.


This had to be stopped.

But the deer said he was a dangerous foe,
and I needed to outwit and not fight.

​

There are enemies you fight
and those you outsmart.

 

A sumo wrestler knows one from another.

 

I woke Mom at night and, as usual, she did inspect
for the possum monster, and she said the king must stay inside. I had to resist the urge to fight.


Mom said, “Ah yeah, thought it was a raccoon.”
She the next day added rocks, and the day after it a lock.

​

And in the morning the yard was clean,
the kingdom was saved by my wisdom.

It stunk bad but no where near as gross as the war with Sir Stunk-A-Lot.

racoon up a tree getting ready to drop down on trash cans.jpg
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