Art Dept. Often when cartoonists show an encircled figure apparently floating in space, such as Violet in panel 1, it is meant to highlight an action or expression taking place in another area outside of our immediate view. The point is to provide the readers with a larger scale view of the environment in which the dialog or activity is occurring. In this case, it is the Sunny Soleil Society’s HQ and grounds, where Cherry and Violet are inside. We understand this encircled image is not a physical ball of some sort, floating around the yard. It is just an artistic device and a longstanding trope in comics.

Here, Rivera pokes fun at the trope by having Violet’s hanky fly outside of the circle as she sneezes, thereby suggesting that it actually does inhabit the outside space, alongside the snake. The illusion is enhanced by having the snake look at Violet (or her hanky). Without that flying hanky, the effect of the joke is less dramatic. So props to Rivera. But the less said about Violet’s image, the better. On the other hand, Rivera does a fine job depicting Violet’s suffering in panel 2. Looking at her makes me want to grab for my own nasal spray!

So, Banjo Cat didn’t give Violet the sneezies like these kittens appear to do? That’s a tough break for Violet and for Cherry, if the diagnosis is accurate. Where will the plot go, then? Too bad that we’ll have to wait for another two weeks to find out, unless Rivera has revised her usual schedule of Cherry=1 week and Mark =>2 weeks.

Art Dept. It may just be another case of artistic license, but that animal looks pretty large to be a kitten.

This story is moving along at the pace of a garden snail, or so it seems. And the Big Plan is:  Cherry and Doc con Violet Cheshire into fostering the kittens. Okay, then what? Do they hold an “Adopt a Kitten” event to unload these little fur balls? They should do it in a hurry, while the kittens are still in their cute phase.

I presume that Doc Davis is going to be as good as his word and take his own advice? He can foster those kittens in his private bedroom hidden somewhere in a corner of the Trail cabin that we never see. That’s after he spays and neuters the kittens, of course!

Art Dept. Things improved today. Even the squirrel.

Oh. I almost forgot Rivera’s punchline of the day (panel 4). But I’m going to try harder.

Do you think Cherry’s stories have become more simplistic and vacuous? If so, why?

The current plot involves Cherry finding a pack of possibly abandoned kittens. What to do?!? That Cherry has no idea about animal shelters around Lost Forest is a bit surprising. Of course, what to do with stray cats and kittens (to say nothing of dogs) is certainly a real world problem with no easy solution. Spaying and neutering kittens is one step, even if it means returning them to the wild. Finding families to adopt the kittens is not easy. We’ll have to wait and see what happens and whether Cherry’s over-the-top reaction (panel 3) has any justification.

Art Dept. Who drew this stuff? Is Rivera just knocking these panels out while waiting for the surf to come in? I’m sure that the door in panel 1 must have been traced from my grandson’s 5^th grade drawings. As far as panel 2 is concerned, I wonder if Rivera let somebody else use her drawing tablet. Did you notice Cherry’s amazing kitten box whose size varies panel to panel?

Then there is the very different depiction of Doc Davis in panel 2, as if drawn by my grandkids. Is there a genuine reason for this sort of inconsistency? Most of Rivera’s critics seem to think she can’t draw or doesn’t care (for examples, search for comments on this site by Mark, “the contrarian commenter”). I’m more inclined to the latter reason, which is worse.

Okay, mystery solved:  Honest Ernest is not wearing an ankle bracelet.

Next, I don’t know where Rivera cribbed the original cat family drawing, but it overshadows (and upstages) the rest of the characters.

Yet, it only took six daily strips before Cherry managed to kneel down and grab the kitten. Rivera refers to the group in panel 3 as siblings, though the gray cat on the end looks big enough to be the mother.

Well, unless Rivera changes her schedule, it will be another two weeks before we learn what happens next!

Commenter Daniel P. brought up a fair point that Honest Ernest probably should be sporting an ankle bracelet, based on his recent Lost Forest escapade with Mark and the Law. Of course, we haven’t yet see a full view of this Ernest. There’s always hope.

I find it interesting that, no matter how crude, violent, irresponsible, or threatening they get, these “villains” seem to always roam free. More surprisingly, Mark and Cherry (and Violet, too) continue to interact with them. In this case I reckon that Cherry has no choice if she wants to keep her job.

We end today’s installment with another non-sequitur. Even if free-roaming kittens attracted predators, why would Honest Ernest have to worry about what goes on during the night? It’s not as if he’s going to be spraying through the entire evening. And if Cherry can’t catch that cat as easily as she boasts, the smell of the insecticide will almost certainly force the kitten to skedaddle.  But if that happened, where would the story wind up? We’ve already had a “chase the cat” story.

Well, this story is really moving along, ain’t it!? And sure, it is common to speak to cats and dogs as if they actually understand you. But what’s the point here?

Dogs might understand people, to a degree. However, I grew up with cats, and not only do I not think they understand people, they probably wouldn’t let on even if they did.

Unrelated historical note: August 15th is Ferragosto, a national holiday in Italy that originated in ancient Rome. It was created by the emperor Augustus to reward people with a day of rest during the harsh heat of August. The Catholic Church later moved the holiday from August 1 to August 15 for religious purposes. Today, Ferragosto is more or less a mandatory summer holiday for many people, lasting up to two weeks. Be sure to wish your friends and family “Buon Ferragosto!”

Taking three days (of strips) to get around to pulling a kitten out of the bushes seems excessive. It’s not as if Violet and Cherry had spent the time deep-thinking the value of happiness as a desired philosophical position or debating whether a restaurant that serves Fettucine Alfredo should call itself an Italian restaurant (it shouldn’t).

Golly gee-whiz! All we have here is:  Cherry discovered a kitten in the bushes. But, to add some melodrama:  Maybe it’s the bastard offspring of that gigolo catabout, Banjo Cat (I bet Rivera wouldn’t have come up with that obscure pun).

In her defense, I will remind readers that Cherry’s adventures are meant (I think) to reflect the Lighter Side of Mark Trail (with apologies to the late Dave Berg of the late MAD magazine for playing off the title of his strip).

Well, having done my duty, I am ready to rag on Rivera for unnecessarily dragging out the obvious point that a kitten (or maybe a catbird?) is hidden in the bushes. As usual, Rivera seems more intent on disrupting the story to get in her punch line, so she has Cherry respond to Violet’s rebuke with ambiguity (panel 3) instead of clarity. At least Cherry manages to maintain a positive disposition in spite of Violet’s usual catty behavior. (I hope you appreciate the length I went to, to set up that pun!)

And since when was Cherry down with weed killer? Hasn’t she always fought against it? Perhaps the realities of getting a regular paycheck and maybe having to pick up the slack for Mark’s lack of paying work (until now) has something to do with it.

Frankly, I don’t know. Maybe that trip will evolve into its own storyline before too long.

Anyway, if Cherry’s timeline coincides with Mark’s then it is at least the day after the movie and Bill Ellis’s phone call. Mark and Rusty could already be on their way to California. Cherry—working in her usual stretch pants-and-logo shirt uniform—hears a kitten hidden in some bushes. I don’t think a mewing kitten is an especially strange sound, though in the context presented, it would at least qualify as a surprising sound. Words matter.

Art Dept. Mark the Contrarian Commenter (as I think I must identify him here) would certainly criticize that gelatinous foliage in front of the house for having no realistic shape or identifiable trait, other than being “a bush” (or possibly a Monty Pythonesque blancmange). Its vagueness and anonymity stand in sharp contrast to the more representational grasses in the foreground. Though I do not recognize them, they appear to be identifiable. Why this visual disparity? Maybe Rivera doesn’t like to draw bushes the way artists don’t like drawing hands and feet.

By the way, are you mystified as I am by the very small two-pane window in panel 1?