The Wheel of Fate spins, and having spun, sometimes goes sideways. This past week saw our happy, giddy, love-smitten Mark & Cherry take one of their post-story nature walks (which have largely replaced the post-story flapjack dinners), where they expressed their near equal devotion to the enjoyment of nature’s bounty and to each other. And that’s fine as far as it goes.  But doing this for an entire week gets a bit much. If the strip ever gets dropped by King Features, maybe the STARS Network can buy it, make it live action, and give it a more hip, racy title: “Cherry & Mark get off on Nature.”

Just when we thought these two might melt into a blob of organically-certified orgasm, Cherry’s phone started ringing. It was Bill Ellis calling, not for Mark, but for her! Bill has an assignment that really needs “a woman’s perspective.” We’ll find out what that means when the story resumes.

But this is quite the novelty. I can find no instance where Cherry has gone on any kind of assignment for Bill Ellis. Of course, there is the chance that this is just another practical joke by Jules Rivera, as we might discover that Bill called to get advice on a wedding present or help with some relationship issue. So, I’m hoping this call is legit. It will be another innovation to the Mark Trail strip, of which there have been several. For those who came in late, let’s review some:

• Expanded frequency of stories centered on other family members. There have been stories by previous cartoonists that featured Cherry, Rusty, Doc, and even Andy. But Rivera promoted Cherry to co-star status, rather than her former “and featuring” credit.
• Expanded or reshaped family personalities. As new blog follower Doghouse Reilly noted, Rusty is more like a real kid and less like an introverted, zombie-sock puppet pining to go fishing with Pop. In fact, this Rusty hates fishing! Rivera’s Cherry started as a feisty, elbows-up owner of her own business, with three siblings: a welcome change from the “I’m waiting for Mark” version. Doc shows up infrequently as a reactivated veterinarian and banjo player.
• A “closed set” of opponents, rivals, and knuckleheads. Rivera has developed a rotating cast of largely incompetent troublemakers for Mark and Cherry. Like villains in the 1960s Batman, not much happens to them when they are disarmed, defeated, or arrested.
• Parody. At first, Rivera took delight in poking fun at Mark and other traditions of the strip. It was refreshing to see Mark out of his depth or lose a fight. Rivera took the ubiquitous daily animal, and stuck it awkwardly in a corner like a statue, looking at us. However, this has all become normalized and annoying.
• A dramatic change in the artwork. Aside from complaints about stories, this gets the most bad press. Rivera’s earliest work was edgy, like a graphic novel, with creative perspectives, layouts, and a more representational style. Even a talking snake! The art soon morphed into a more flat, sketchy, and feckless style. There are several likely reasons for the change in artwork. But now is not the time or place for that discussion.

Another contribution from Rivera is the customized title panels on Sundays. Today’s panel is a good, if expected, design. The webbing is heavy-handed and not convincing. The pun is better than average.