Hi, ebberbuddie ~ Here's a cupla our old Tails that got lost when our previous Tails pages 8 an 9 crashed...

July 18, 2001...
Dad hadda go to Pixburg to visit GranMom fer a "kupla dayz".
The regular house we goez to when Dad leaves us wuz gonna be emptee cuz Unka Pat went outta town fer a whole week. So Dad arranged for anudder of his Fire Buds to come uppa our house an take care of us twicet a day or so. We got stuck inna basement cuz we get too rowdee to stay a long time up inna house wiffa Kat...

Ownlee problem wuz Dad furgetz to tell us Tracy is gonna be visitin us atta Ranch. Fiday nite rolls round anna *stranger* busts inna house an opens our door . Miz Cinders meets the *intruder* atta door an starts aktin like a tack dog. I tried ta tell her that guy looks kind familur an she otta back off a minnit, but she's grabbin his pant skinz an aktin feerooshus. Well, Tracy dint like that so much, so's they had a liddel deeskusshin an Cinders agreed that OkeeDoKee, Mister Tracy kuld be boss. I jest akted normul an waved my tailbone an wiggeled my butt an jumped up-an-down . I wuz purdy happie jest ta see *sumbuddie*!

We gotz our kunichies, fresh wadder, and went for an *outie*. Mr. Tracy dint trust Cinners ta run loose, so she hadda stay onna long rope, but I gotz to run round wiffa leash draggin cuz I kept commin rite back whenebber Tracy called my name. After Friday nite we wuz purdy nice ta Mister Tracy an his WifeMate when they comed ta visit wiff us.

Dad comed home on Mundee nite. He wuz a liddel uppyset when he busted us loose cuz tween Tracy's mornin an afternoon visits we gotz a liddel *rowdee* an played tug-a-war wiffa lay-me-down pad . Kinda had pad stuffin all ober our korner inna basement.

We all jumped inna trakter kar an rode uppa street ta thank Tracy for takin care of us.
That's when Dad founded out bout Cinners way of greetin Mister Tracy an when we fluffed up our pad . Dad wuz happie cuz Tracy said we wuz reelee purdy *good* an he'd be willin to take care of us ennie time.

Mister Boots, the Kat, akted happie that Dad got back; an we all rasseled round an had a good time when we got back to the Ranch.
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Smokey here...
Two weeks ago we wuz out for our b'fore bed outie. Miz Cinder is off checkin out the brush pile when she finds a Kat ta play wiff. Looked sorta like our Boots, the Kat, cept it had a longer nosebone, big fluffie tail anna big white stripe down it's back. Cinders is runnin round the pile Grrrrrin! and yappin at her new buddie ~ then alla sudden she jumps back an *yips*; then comes runnin towards the porch. Onna way by, I mention that she kinda **stinks** purdy bad. She sez the Kat she wuz playin wiff jest up an *pee'd* on her! Dad opens the door an we both bounced in an got our biskitz. Dad's sorta watchin the TV idiot box but falls asleep inna kliner chair. Boots comes over an *sniffs* us then hi-tails it into the baffroom an hides inna fallin wadder clubhouse. I couldn't stand the *stink* either and followed him inta the baffroom. Dad wakes up an starts *sniffin* an askin "What died in here?" Cinder getz up fron aside the kliner chair an starts *sniffin* along wiff Dad. I soon become the "suspect" cuz I'm huddled inna baffroom wiff my vibrate an shake mode turned on. Dad drags me out inna hall and starts *sniffin* all ober my body. Then he sez "You're OK; CINDER!, COME!" She don't *come*.
Dad found her unner the dining room table wiff her *whassa matter?* face on. Wun good *SNIFF* an he hollerz "You been Skunked!!!!"

Whassa Skunk? Cinders gets marched down inna basement for anudder *sniff* test. Dad decided she dint stink enuff for a bath or a nite onna front porch, so she got tied up onna time out wall wiffout the blankie to make all stinky. Me an Dad got the bigbed to ourselfs.

We went to the store an bought sum extra peroxode an bakin soda next day, but Dad had Fire Klass that nite an nebber got round to the Skunk Baff treatment. Cinders spent the next three nites inna basement. Been two weeks now, an she still hasn't had a baff!
He still minds her she stinks whenebber she stand inna co-pilots position tween the front seats inna trakter kar or when she snuggles too close onna bigbed. I think he's gettin used to her "ode-de-skunque" perfume! Mebbee sum day we'll burn that old brush pile!
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September 1, 2001...
We're back (really inna Fire Station) while Dad makes out the fire report...
Nuffin much - big hot air balloon came in over the biglake an landed rite side the road
inna liddel bit a wadder . Pilot guy wuz OkeeDoKee, jest gotz his hard foots and the
basket thingy a liddel muddie . Fire Guyz helped load up the stuff inna chase trakter
truk anna Copperz made a report.

Afore that exsitement hit, we had phunn atta biglake while Dad werked onna Ranger's Patrol Boat. Dad, cupla Rangers, an 2 Wadder Deputies were onna dock playin wiffa boat. Dad let us FurKidz run round tied tagether. Allua sudden they hears a big *spaloosh*. I told Dad I wuz jest reachin ta get a drink . Wadder wuz kinda deep round the dock thingy. Nunbuddy hollered, so's we started playin inna wadder an I managed to drag SmokeMan in too. Wun Deputy said seems like the liddel guy doesn't like ta swim. Dad sez yeah, he needs lessins...

Next minnit I'm offa rope and Dad's towin the Smokester out inna wadder longside the dock... He don't reelee know how ta swim and his butt starts sinkin. Dad's holdin his head an earbones out the wadder wiffa rope. All a sudden he starts runnin wifffa fronts an can keep his head up - then he figgers out ta start runnin wiffa rear end. He popped up lika bobber an starts motorin round in cirkelz at the end of the rope! Allua guys start *cheerin and hollerin* ! He kept motorin back toward shore so Dad letz him come out afore he got skairt, but I thinks he liked it! Dad sez we'll go back again on Mundee for summore lessins.

Onna way to the Shop Dad sez he's gotta stop at the "groomer's place'. When he comed back he'd lost a lotta head fur an his earbones stuck out more . Smokey kept lookin at him like he wuz a "stranger" and started *sniffin* on Dad's earbones! I told Smoker not to sweat it, happenz every so manny munths or so... it'll grow back an he won't look so *dorky* inna few weeks! Well, it's true Dad, ya look like ya jest got off the turnip boat! Did ya fall asleep onna table or what?

Well, that'sa end of Cinder's pawboardin for tanite! Guess it's upta me, SmokeMutt, ta
say g-nite. I'll let ya'll knowe how this *swimmin* thing goes after I tries it a few more times. Gotta get the hang of keepin my mouff an earbones closed afore I'll reelee enjoy it!
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Labur Day Report ~
We started off wiffa raid on Pet Supplies Plus ta get a bag of skratch sand fer the Kat's brownie box. Cleaned up the floor spills in the treats section and conned Dad into fillin up a baggie wiff fresh wuns, too. Then we hit the dawg food aisle and helped clean up the mess from a split bag. Store klerk wiffa broom said he 'preciated the help! **buurrrrrpp** Good flavor, Dad.

Next, we noticed Dad wuz pointin the trakter kar thru the woods inna City Park. Whoa up, Dad; there's wadder ober there. Dad parks where they rent paddel boats an we getz out. "Kan the dawgs swim?" asks Dad.
Dad, big sign sez No Swimmin!
"Sure." sez the kid rentin boats...
**Ker-sploosh** and Cinners is in!

Kum-monn, Smokey, I can't swim wiff you're butt playin anchor onna shore! Dad unhooks our y-thingy an I start paddlin round. Dad takes SmokeMutt out onna dock where they tie the boats up. Go on, jump in. Smoke digs in wiff all fours an tries to wrap his tailbone round a post. Dad prys him loose an gives him a *shove-in*. Terrabul big *ka-splash* followed by a lotta frantik pawin an splashin. Dad holds his headbone above wadder wiffa leash till he members to turn on the rear propellerz. After he got all four spinnin, Dad points him toward shore an he putted rite in an climbed out. Then we all went out onna dock. I wuz a liddel timid the furst time, so Dad *helped* me offa dock, too. Then he tells Smokey to "Go get her", and gives him annuder *shove-off*. He went down lika rock, but bobbed up wiff all four propellerz spinnin, turned towards land an followed me in.

After that, ya couldn't keep us offa dock. Wuz a race to see who could jump in furst
after Dad said OK. Smoke started walkin phunnie - sorta like he wuz tryin to cross his legbones. He runned up onna shore (rite to where two gurls were sittin on lawn chairs), hiked his leg, an started to pee. He musta pee'd fer two minnits strait! Ebberbuddie that wus watchin us wuz laffin and howlin! I wus 'barrussed ta tears.
SmokeMutt looked purdy "relieved" an trotted back onna dock.

Cinners, whadda you do wiff allua wadder; dontcha have to pee?
Yer supposed to swim wiff yer mouff shut, ya liddel dummie!
Ooooohh, that musta been why Dad wuz hollerin to "Shut yer mouff". I dint think I wuz barkin!

After bout an hour anna half, we wuz startin to slow down. Dad sez we better quit afore sumbuddie needs rescued half way to dry land. Onlee bad thing wuz Dad brought along the toe chopperz. Since we had em all softened up, Dad stops atta piknik table an starts choppin nailz! Uggh! Short nailz allus ruins our lap times when we run laps round the living room onna rug! We need ta *loose* them chopperz!

Now we're havin a pardee atta Shop. Dad gotz a call frum Cali Dog's folks askin if we could feed her cuz her GranMom hadda go to the Big White Coat's Lab. We gave her sum grub then brought her to our Shop cuz Dad's gotta fix a skool bus radideo afore tumorrow.

She's not havin too much phunn playin wiff us cuz we're so pooped frum swimmin that SmokeMan an me are takin turns nappin onna rug unner the puter!
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September ??, 2001...
She dun it AGAIN: Skunk Kiddie #2

I jest don't believe how DUMM she can be...
Last nite we got our bed time outie. I'm doin my stuff out front, she's rompin round the
ranch house lookin fer mischef ta get into. I hears this *Pfsssssst* sound near the sidda house. Ole Cinners comes runnin likitty-splitz tryin ta rub her facebones tween her legs onna wet grass.
I axes Whuz rong?
Black an White Kat pee'd on me, again.
That ain't a KAT, dummie; issa SkUnk!

Dad opens the door an sees me onna porch wiff my dinnerplate eyeballs on; I jumps thru the door bout the time he gets the "scent". He hollerz so's I turned on the Shake & Vibrate an hide inna kitchen. She runs round the living room (spreading ode-de-skunque) an heads for the basement door. Dad finally corners me and I pass the *sniff* test. Now she's unner the BigBed gettin nerbus. Dad opens the cellar door an she flies down stairs wiff him in hot pursuit. Musta flunked the *sniffer* test cuz Dad starts grabbin stuff for the "skunque mix" an starts pourin it inna empty plastic pop jug.
I hears em go inna garage an wadder starts runnin...

Next I hear the time out chain rattlin; then Dad comes up (a liddel soggy) wiffout the
CinderMutt. I getz *sniffed* AGAIN, but I getz a biskit an we jump inna bed. I tried
ta mention that mebbee he otta close the winder, cus the air's gettin a liddel *thick*
inna bunkroom, but he sez shuddup & go sleep.

Bout dark:thirty I'm UNNER the bed cuza the *stink* inna bunkroom. Dad jumps up an yanks open the cellar door an *sniffs*. Comes back *sniffin* alla way. Uh-oh! Members he opened the winder afore the skunque eppisode started. Yep, *ode-de-skunque* flowin in thru the open winder. Tried ta tell ya, Dad. My Dad's not alluz the brightest litebulb in the pack.

Morning comes an I go out fer a breath of fresh air - wheeew! Picked up Cinners onna
way to the trakter kar. Oh m'gosh - didja stik a paw inna lectrik sokket? FurSkinz stickin strait up! She's droppin furrz left an rite, so's we boff gotz a brush job afore we got inna trakter.

She's still havin a bad hair day - all fluffie and wavin inna breeze !
Dad telled her she wuz gonna be onna rope for outies till the Skunk Fambly moves outa towne fer the winter. Sum Dawgs nebber learn nuffin!
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September 26, 2001... Cinder, here...
We're back; fromma White Coat's Lab ...

I nowed sumpin wuz up last nite. We gotz our grub urlee, then no outie till reel dark:thirty. Dad grabs a zippie bag an hooks me up onna leash stringy. No runnin inna yard; jest lotsa *go poddies*. I gived up and took a dump. Dad uses his lite stik then scoops up my stuff inna zippie bag?? SmokeMan's next onna leash. Found out later he wuz a tuff case - no poddy while Dad's lookin. Came back in wiff Dad mutterin he
thinks he got the rong pile - handz were so kold he couldn't tell iffin it wuz "fresh".

Lebbin a-klok atta shop; nudder zippie bag an Smoke goes out solo, wiff Dad hawk-eyen out the door. Dashes out an comes back *grinnin* wiffa fresh bag of Smokey stinkie. Letz go; we all hop inna trakter kar.

Hmmmm, this house looks familiar. Uh, Oh; it's Doc Mike's Lab. In we go; Smoke turns
onna *shake & vibrate* motor.

Furst thing is that durn elevator table wiffa meter thingy. I rides up an Doc sez...
Hmmm, 49.1; that's up four frum April.
Uh, Oh...
Doc's Gurl sez Wun more pound an she needs the big, spensive HeartGard.
Hush, Gurl!!
She's not overweight, YET; but you should cut her back a little...
Dad sez She won't get to 50.
Uh, Oh...

I got off purdy good; earbones squeekie kleen, heart tickin and lungs sukkin OK, toofs kleen enuff, eyeballs shinee an brite. OkeeDoKee, I'm outta here...
Check her hips.
The're fine, Dad. Whooa Doc; easy onna joints - my legbones don't go that far!
She's fine, nice and tight. Hold her for the *shot*.
{{Full-Nelson applied to headbone}}
{{Zippp, whooshe, pop!}}
Whas'zat?
Good Cinder, here's a biscuit!
Purdy durn small biskit fer all that Dad's payin ya, but thanks, Doc.

OK, Smoke, hop on the scale.
Nuts ta that, ya pulled me off when I tried ta jump on wiff Cinners. Well, OK; since ya
tossed me on an tied me here; I'll jest cower an *shake*.
He's 43.1; but the four pounds since April look good on him. And look - he's stopped
shaking! Good boy, Smokey! Have a biscuit!
{{Blush}} Na-na, Cinners.
Hey, Doc; get that telescope outta my earbone.
Express my WHATZ? Put my tailbone DOWN!
Hold onto him; he won't like this.
Yipes! I sure won't do ennie more *rug skootin* on my butt while Dad's lookin!
Yep, he needed that.
Like heck I did! Hope yer finnerbone stinks!
What about that knee, Doc?
{{more groping and poking onna kneebone}}
Well, he's got a class 3 out of 4 "medial Luxating Patella"; he'll be a candidate for
surgery if it gets any worse or bothers him. Cost about $800 at the hospital clinic I'd
recommend.
I jest GOTZ ta stop *limpin*! Hoppsbittel? An they're talkin bout that Sir Jury guy again. Ate hunnerd buckz will buy a lotta toyz an chew bonze. Letz skip the Sir Jury gig!
Gimmie the krummie biskit an letz get OUTTA here!
Bring him back in February for his *shotz* and we'll look at it again.
Doc, you can bet yer last bippie I'll be outta towne that day! Hmmm; tasty biskit!

Glad that's ober wiff! Hey, Dad; does Smokey relee have to go see that Sir Jury guy?

We'll have to think about it. We don't want him to be a cripple in a few years...
Let's go back to the Shop and you Kids can have brunch.
OkeeDoKee; thatz a good plan!!

{{a short while later...}}
HEY Dad! Were's the resta my krunchies!??
That'll be enough for you, from now on, "Chubby".
CHUBBIE? Doc Mike dint say THAT! Jest cuz he rolled my side furz half way round to my
backbonez don't mean nuffin...
Smoke - didja have yer paw onna up-an-down table when they wuz all watchin the meter dial?

Nope, I dint do nuffin. Hey Cinners, how come we call that the White Coat's Lab? That nice Doc Mike wuz wearin a blue-green skrubby shirt an pantz, notta white coat?

Shut yer trap, Gimpy. I'm commin ober to help you suck up yer krunchies iffin yer not dun when I finish whut liddel I got in my bowl!

Sheese, whadda *grouch* she kan be!

OK, Dad; I'm all dunn pawboardin my storrie - letz head for the Ranch and DINNER!

Not dinner time yet, Kid. Suck it in for a while!

Grrrrr! Itz gonna be a loooong winter...
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Those were sum of our fall Tails that Dad saved on the puter disk. We lost summore that we dint save...

[ January 11, 2002: Message edited by: Cinder & Smoke ]