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Friday, June 11, 2004
I hesitate to post this, but I was convinced by the Father of the Schip that you who like to keep up with the misadventures of the Three Schippeteers deserve no less than the whole truth. So prepare yourselves. What follows is the Aftermath of the Peanut Feast written about on June 3rd. (See below.)

All seemed fine the next day, but then ... How can I put this? You know how corn after being bitten off the cob, chewed, swallowed, etc. is still recognizably corn after it completes its journey? Well, apparently the same is true for peanuts that have travelled the length of one Miss Mellie. I would say that the boys had more sense than to dine on peanuts, but we all know better, don't we? Over the course of a couple days it became disgustingly clear that Mel-O-Drama was the one who had opened the jar and then - rightfully, and probably forcefully - claimed all the spoils. And seeing as how the spoils turned out to be major fiber for the canine demon, after quite a bit of cleanup, Miss Mel is now sporting a nice waistline. I guess my calling it the Schippeteer No Shame Zone Diet was right on!

Last night I shared this tale with Mary Jane, the wonderful mother of Chile Boy, Mellie's intended. Mary Jane then regaled me with the story of Chile raiding the squirrel trap of seeds and nuts without tripping the humanely designed doors. Even though Chile's species-inappropriate feast took a U-turn, I do have to wonder if this is sheer coincidence or some kind of canine kismet. Fortunately, in both households everything and everyone came through the wash just fine. And the squirrel has decided to go on to less competitive pastures!

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Friday, June 04, 2004
In these difficult times (See many of us are in need of good news and so we bring you an installment of Tales of the Tailless ...

Recently the Three Schippeteers were treated to a visit at their cousin Chile Boy's place, newly outfitted with the finest of artificial turf. Skipper soon discovered that fake grass is almost as good as the real stuff for NASCARing and Jordan and Chile found rolling in the greenery very satisfying. Melanie took the occasion to torture her intended.

Yes, Chile Boy and Miss Mellie are engaged. No, they are not first cousins! They would be married by now if it were up to Chile. Mel is in no rush. She quite enjoys her flirtations with the eager to please CB. Why give up that kind of power? Maybe if there were a lifetime guarantee of warm days filled with lizards to hunt and treats doled out at regular intervals. Nah, too easy.

Mel played it ever so coy, gently rebuking Chile's advances. Then Chile showed off his doggie door and encouraged the Belgians to slip on through to the other side. Skip and Jordo were curious, but just couldn't go through. So Chile demonstrated again, disappearing into the house and then peeking his head out. Mel sized up the situation, gave Chile a big wet kiss, and then pushed his grinning face back in the house. By the time he came out again she was walking away, head held high, butt swaying. Then she glanced over her shoulder at him, as if to say, "Did you like that? Oh, Honey, you are so out of my league!" Chile just started cavorting with Jordan again.

Ah, young love!

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Thursday, June 03, 2004
Alrighty then! Apparently opposable thumbs are overrated. In the continuing saga of "Gee, I could have adopted dumb dogs, but noooooo ...." the Three Black Belgian Devils decided to go on the Schippeteer No Shame Zone Diet. Biscuits and kibble are fine, but we need more protein. How about those unsalted peanuts? Should divide nicely in unequal thirds. But the lid is screwed on tight. Ah, ye of little faith!

Yup, somehow the Trio from Hell took the jar off the table, unscrewed the lid (which is in pretty good shape), and dined on a goodly portion of peanuts. All seem fine, if not a little plump and every so slightly guilty. Except for Jordan, of course.

It's not safe to leave the house any more!

Jordan, shame free as always!

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Wednesday, June 02, 2004
Going on vacation can be dangerous. The bipeds enjoyed a week of sun and surf in Florida (Ah, ocean, flowers, fruit, birds, dolphins, manatees, hair-curling humidity, bugs!) and the Three Schippeteers were pampered at the Canine Country Club. The Belgians came home relaxed and looking good. For 24 hours they were surprisingly sedate. Of course, Jordan was the first to break the quiet. Miss Mellie assumed her rightful place as Queen of All. And then Skipper lost his mind! I have determined that he has Schippenheimer's Syndrome.

It's not that our esteemed Skipperdoodle can't remember the rules of polite begging. No, he has most willfully chosen to forget that he's not supposed to beg with his paws on my chair or that the bipeds do not navigate well amidst spinning little black devils or that the slaves do not respond well to being "verbally reminded" that dog and biscuits are in the kitchen while humans are nowhere nearby!

So, now we have Skipper's selective remembering as an accompaniment to Jordan's selective hearing (Were you talking to me?) - often employed together with his invisibility cloak (Can you see me now?) - and Mellie's selective acknowledgment of others' existence (Oh, were you still breathing? You're in my spot!). There is such a thing as being too selective!

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