Mr. Doberman is back! Sort of. And maybe he sort of isn't ... some of the time?

It's complicated, OK?

That's what happens when you try to live for real inside a fever dream. (Err, we suppose.) Mr. Doberman, Lassie, Duke, and the one that wears the proverbial pants in the relationship are in uncharted waters now in the small town of Paris, North Dakota, and it doesn't help that Mr. Doberman's eyes keep swimming whenever he picks up something to read. His family craves a simple life of human chaos, one where the pet dog is a single breed, the bunnies stay off the road, and the dump truck always wins. Mr. Doberman, personally, would like nothing better than to sit down with his two children on his lap and finish his favorite fantasy series - The Chronicles of Vladimir, while watching snow drift through the blinds. Or perhaps listen to his favorite band - The Horse Collars, on Amelia - his automated listening and informational device.

Although to complicate matters ... Um. Never mind. We shouldn't talk about Misterl- the other place- just yet.

I guess that just leaves us with with Vladimir, the dragon, and the stick buried in Mr. Doberman's font yard. As The Confused Oracle puts it:

It may stretch a thousand leagues

And snake under the sea,

Or be a point, just like the sting

Of some poor bumblebee.

You may wish to uncover it,

To see which way it bends.

But peek, and this I swear to you:

You won't like how it ends.

The Confused Oracle goes on, of course. But you don't really want to hear her next couplet. Do you?

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