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Summit up

SUMMIT UP

Molly, we wish you a fantastic 18th birthday. Lots of Love from Mom, Dad and Taylor.

Good morning and welcome to Summit Up, the world’s only daily column that nearly forgot.

MILLIONS OF SUMMIT UP READERS:

“Forgot what? Your suspenders? Your socks?”

SUMMIT UP: Worse. Much worse. We nearly forgot to write Summit Up. And now, mere minutes away from deadline, we’re sitting here, wondering what the heck happened to the week that was. And since we don’t have the amazing powers of time travel that some of our colleagues are apparently possessed with, we need to come up with all fresh material instead of reaching back into the archives for the golden lore of yore.

MSUR: “Well, you’re not getting any sympathy from us. We’re out here bumping chairs, shoveling snow, filling potholes, working for a living. You’re inside the plush corporate suites, sitting in a comfy office chair, probably twirling it around and hydraulically raising it up and down. Sounds like the good life to us. Plus, you guys have that killer candy vending machine, with boysenberry shortbread cookies. And bouncy balls to sit on.”

SU: You don’t know how plush. Why, just the other day, as we were dripping off after enjoying a soak in the corporate Jacuzzi, and just before ordering up a frothy latte at corporate coffee bar, we were saying to ourselves, “This is the life.”

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Oh. And we forgot the part about being able to shower off after our soak thanks to our new indoor combined shower/sprinkler system, otherwise known as a leaky roof. Plus, the Pop-Tarts in our vending machine are the cinnamon-brown sugar kind, and we hate those.

MSUR: “Awwww, you’re really tugging at our heart strings now. Wait a second while we pull out our violins, so we can join the pity party.”

SU: Yeah, yeah … whatever. We’ve had an interesting week. Just the other day, we came home, famished, and saw a little bag of cookies on the kitchen counter, nicely wrapped, ribboned and sitting in a cute straw basket. Just what we need after an exhilarating day chasing leads and tapping sources and doing all those other fun, reporter-type things that make us feel oh-so-fulfilled. We nabbed one of those babies right off the bat, before even washing our hands and snarfed it on the spot, thinking that the little dimple on top would have been a good spot for a drop of homemade gooseberry preserves. “Hmmm, a bit dry and chewy,” we thought to ourselves. “Slightly salty and very plain. Not exactly the type of cookie we’d write home about.” Already, our mind was whirling, wondering how we would compliment the cookies while also being honest about the somewhat questionable texture and flavor. It wasn’t until a few minutes later, when we were considering going for a second cookie, that we noticed the note on the bag, handwritten by a kind neighbor.

“Here are some biscuits for your dog, Comet, Hope he enjoys them.”

So there you have it. We admit that we ate a dog biscuit, and we LIKED it. Summit Upchuck is what we ought to call this column today.

MSUR: “That’s not so bad. We’ve been known to chow down on a few Kibbles ‘n Bits ourselves. We remember working at a bar and putting out a bowl of those on the counter, just to see what would happen. It was hilarious, but suffice it to say, we aren’t working at that establishment any more.”

***

We are sad, so sad, to report the scummiest of Scum Alerts!! Scum Alerts!! sent in by an alert reader who witnessed an act of almost unspeakable callousness.

“To whomever hit the large German Shepherd lost on the highway around 9 p.m. Tuesday evening at Farmer’s Korner and kept on driving, and then the other vehicle’s driver that ran it over a second time ” may the bad karma follow you forever and your heart shrink to a small raisin ” you both suck!”

We know this kind of stuff happens. We’ve seen it ourselves, but we just never thought it would happen here in Summit County, one of the dog-friendliest places we’ve ever seen. We’d like to think this was an accident, but from the sounds of the above, it doesn’t look like it. If it was, you might be able to atone by doing some animal rescue work, or adopting a stray pup. If it wasn’t, we’d like to insert our own karmic curse and say that we’re hoping that someday you end up inside a chain-link fence with about a dozen trained-to-kill Doberman’s that haven’t been fed in a week. We’d suggest volunteering at the shelter to cleanse your karmic slate, but we don’t really think that you’d even be appreciated there.

Please, people, let’s keep an eye out for the critters, dogs and otherwise. This is the time of year a lot of wild animals are on the move, so slow down, especially at dawn and dusk, and give them room to cross our busy highways.

***

We out, baking (dog) biscuits.