Iggy needs explanations.

“Oooh! Look! A tree! Oh boy oh boy oh boy!”

Yes, Iggy, it’s a Christmas tree.

“Oh boy oh boy oh boy!”

Calm down, Iggy.

“Oh boy oh boy oh boy! A tree for Christmas!”

Yes. I just said that.

“Thank you thank you thank you!”

Well, it’s for all of us, but you’re wel—

“I love the tree a lot! Happy Iggy! Happy Iggy!”

I’m glad.

“I hated peeing outside!”

What? Oh, no, that’s not what it’s for.

”But it’s a tree! That’s what all trees are for! Oh boy oh boy oh boy! Happy Iggy!”

It’s a decoration – hey! Put your leg down!

“What!”

You still have to pee outside.

“Not fair!”

Very fair, Iggy.

“The cats don’t pee outside! They don’t do anything outside! They go wherever they want in the house!”

No, they don’t go wherever they want in the house. They use litter.

“Oh yeah? Where?”

In the hall and downstairs bathrooms.

“Nuh-uh. They do not.”

Yes they do, Iggy.

“There’s no litter in those bathrooms. There’s just the buffets.”

The what?

“The buffets. In the plastic boxes. Nice of you to put those out, by the way.”

Brian!

What?

How often do you clean the litter boxes?

I don’t. I thought you did.

But there’s never anything in them! 

“Speaking of which, hungry Iggy. Be right back.”

Get back here, Iggy!

“What!”

That’s not food!

“Yes it is!”

Iggy, trust me, it’s not—

“The cats said so!”

What?

“They said so when I first got here! I was like, ‘hey cats, what’s up,’ and they were like, ‘eat shit, Schnauzer,’ so I–“

Oh, no.

“Yeah. That was back before they started hating me.”

Iggy?

“What?”

Those buffet boxes are the litter.  Don’t eat from there again.

“They pee there?”

Yes.

“Can I pee there?”

No.

“You suck.”

You think I suck now?  That’s nothing.  Here, hold still while I put this on you.

“What the — HEY!”

Yep, now I suck.  Hold still.

“I should pee everywhere for this.” 

 

Brr.

Aw, look at widdle Iggy!   

“Zzzz–hmmph… huh?”

Who’s my toasty Iggy?  You are!  Yes you are!  You’re my toasty Iggy!  

“What?”

My toasty puppy!  

“Seriously?”

Was my widdle Iggy puppy chilly?

“Well, actually–“

Uh oh.  Who got a chilly widdle nose?  

“What?”

Iggy got a chilly widdle nose!

“What are you–“

Is my chilly widdle Iggy cozy?

“Karen–“

Awww!  Look at my cozy widdle Iggy puppy!

“WOULD YOU SHUT UP AND FIX THE DAMNED HEAT PUMP!”

Suck it up. That’s what you get for stealing my blanket.  Widdle chilly Iggy puppy!

“Cut it out!”

The repair guy will be here this afternoon–

“Good.”

–widdle floofy-face!

“Ugh.”

A very Iggy Thanksgiving.

“What’s with all that food you put out that I can’t have?”

It’s Thanksgiving.

“Wasn’t it Thanksgiving last year?”

It’s every year.

“Why?”

So people can take a day to step back and think about all the things they’re thankful for.

“Oh. Like what?”

Well, I’m thankful for you. I’m very happy that we found you at the rescue and were able to bring you home to live with us.

“That’s nice.”

What are you thankful for?

“Ohhhhh, I dunno. There’s just so much! But I think I’d have to say I’m most thankful for my balls. Oh, WAIT.”

Iggy, we explained that.

“Oh, you EXPLAINED. Well, that’s okay, then.”

Iggy –

“I’M THANKFUL YOU EXPLAINED THE WHOLE SNIPPING-MY-BALLS THING!”

Aside from that.

“NOTHING! Oh, hang on — I’m thankful I have easy access to tasty acorns.”

What?

“Nature’s chew toys. And they’re snacks!”

Iggy, what did I tell you about eating acorns? You know they make you sick!

“Sorry. Forgot. Um… uh oh.”

What, Iggy?

“Um… urp…”

You ate acorns, didn’t you?

Urp. BLLUUUUURRGH.”

Oh, yuck.

“I guess you’re not thankful for a clean carpet anymore, huh. Sorry about that–“

It’s okay, Iggy–

“–just like you’re sorry ABOUT MY BALLS!”

Iggy–

“Go away, I’m sick.”

IMG_2598.JPG

Ugh. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

Um… Iggy?

“What?”

Karen?

I know, Brian.  Look, Iggy, it’s nice that you’re sitting on command –

“Yes!  Yes, I am!  What’s the problem now?

Well, it’s just that –

“Hang on.  I’m itchy.”

Yikes.

“Okay.  What’s the problem?  You said sit, I sat.  I’m still sitting.”

Well, yes, Iggy, you certainly are.  We’re happy with what you’re doing–

“Good.”

What?

We’re pleased, Brian.  Iggy, we’re pleased.  It’s just that where you’re sitting is–

“Oh, now you wanna pick where I sit?  You know what?  NO.  I eat where you tell me to.  I sleep where you tell me to.  I pee and poop where you tell me to.  Well, I’ve had enough.  I’m done.  I’m putting my paw down–“

Oh shit, Karen, don’t piss him off.

Brian, he has to learn to — oh.

Okay Iggy, don’t move.

“I’ll move whenever I damn well– ooh, squishy.  HEY!

“Brian’s no fun.  Can’t we just leave him out in the yard?”

No.

“We can put food out for him, and–“

NO. 

“Hmmph.  No fun at all.”

Just be glad I’m not standing on YOUR balls, Iggy.

Brian, don’t mention–

Not that I could if I wanted to, since you’ve been snipped.

“What do you mean ‘snipped’?”

Oh, no.

You know.  Fixed.

“What?”

Oooh Iggy, look at the toy!

“Karen, what’s he talking about?  Snipping my balls?”

Nothing, Iggy.  Hey, I think one of the cats is near your bowl.  Why don’t you go tell her–

“WHAT HAPPENED TO MY BALLS?!”

Yeah, readers, I think we need to go offline.  

“YES, READERS, I THINK WE DAMN WELL DO.”

What’d I say?

Iggy spends quality time with Brian.

Hi, Brian, how was your day?

Tiring. But not too bad, really.

You’ve worked the early shift for how long, two weeks now? How are you adjusting?

Well, it’s a tradeoff. I hate getting up so early, but then I’m home a lot earlier now, which I like, so—

“Hi hi hi hi hi hi hi! Look at me look at me look at me!”

What the—

Yes, we see you, Iggy. Very nice.

“I’m climbing on Brian’s lap!”

Yes, you are.

Yes, he certainly is. Hello, Iggy.

“Hi Brian! Look at me! I’m being friendly! Friendly Iggy!”

Wow, okay. Very friendly.

Well, Iggy was always tired by the time you got home. Not so much now, with you coming home so much earlier.

Yeah, I noticed he’s been—

“Hey Karen! Hey Karen! You know what? You know what? You know what?”

What, Iggy?

“I’m gonna shove my head against his hand and make him pet me!”

That’s nice.

Make me pet him?

“See?”

Okay, yeah, that’s pretty cute.

“Now I’m gonna lick his face! All of it! A whole lot!”

Good boy, Iggy.

Wait, I’m not as nuts about that.

Trust me, Brian, it could be worse. Let him lick your face.

“Oh boy oh boy oh boy!”

Worse? Really? Okay.

“You know what I’m gonna do next? It’s the best thing ever! Guess what it is!”

This should be interesting.

What are you going to do next, Iggy?

“I’m gonna step on his balls!”

No you’re not.

What the hell-

Yep, worse. Told you so.

“Hey Brian! Karen said I could step on your balls!”

What?! When did you–

I didn’t, Brian. Iggy, you know I didn’t. Get off his lap.

“But Brian said I could step on his balls!”

What?! No I didn’t!

No he didn’t. Neither of us said you could. Get down.

What goes on when I’m not here?

This.

“Yep! Pretty much! Now hold still, Brian, ‘cause I’m gonna step on your-”

Down, Iggy!

“Aww, c’mon! It’ll be awesome!”

No, it won’t be awesome!

“I’mma step on his balls! Happy Iggy! Happy Iggy! NEVER IN MY LIFE HAVE I BEEN AS HAPPY AS I AM AT THIS VERY MOMENT!!!”

Down, Iggy. RIGHT NOW.

“Aaaww!”

What is wrong with this dog?

A great way to start the day.

Good morning, Iggy.

“Ugh.”

You okay?

“Ugh.  How long did I sleep?”

All night.  You — HA HA HA HA!

“What?”

Nothing, sorry.  Just — ha ha ha ha ha!

“What?!  What’s so funny?  Oh no, please don’t tell me I have–“

Ha ha ha!

“Oh, no.  Morning nose!”

 Ha ha ha!  Okay, come on, Iggy, let’s brush that out.  

“Don’t show anyone the pictures, okay?”

Sure.

Iggy comforts the afflicted.

“Hey Karen!”

What, Iggy?

“Hey Karen!  Hey Karen!  Hey Karen!”

Ugh.  Dot dow, Iggy.

“I wrote you a poem!  Wanna read it to you!”

I cad’t wait to hear it.

“Okay, here goes!”

For My Human, Not Dewormed
by Iggy 

Poor Karen, sickly,
visible suffering, pain –
don’t care.  Wanna play. 

Well, that’s about what I expected.  Ad I dod’t deed to be deworbed.

“How do you know?  Have you been checked for worms?”

Doh, I haved’t.  But–

How about distemper?  Did you get a distemper shot this year?

I dod’t deed a–

“Then you could be all sorts of sick!”

It’s just a–

“We might have to put you down.”

What?  You dod’t have to put–

“It’s the most humane thing.  Look at you, suffering like that.  Breaks my heart.”

It’s just a cold.

“Could be rabies, or–“

It’s dot rabies!  It’s dot distebper, or worbs, or bordatella–

“Ooh, I like bordatella!”

What?

“Yeah!  Some bordatella in a white wine sauce, served with calamari and–“

Bordatella is keddel cough.

“What?”

Keddel cough!   You rebebber, you had it whed we adopted you — ow, by head.  Ugh.

“Oh, you’re getting worse.  I’ll call the vet.”

Seriously, Iggy?

“Oh, wait, I don’t know how.  You’ll have to call.  Just tell him it’s time.”

Doh!  I ab dot callig the vet.  I just deed sleep.

“Okay.  We’ll give it one more day.”

Thagk you.

“Karen?”

What?

“Wanna play!”

I’b sick, Iggy!  Leave be alode!

“Okay.”

Thagk you.

“Wanna play!”

 You doh what?  Just have be put dowd dow.

Tonight there’s gonna be a jailbreak.

“Psst — hey! Reader people!  I did it!  I escaped!  Karen left the crate door unlocked, and I snuck out!  I’m free!  What a badass I am!  Of course, I’m a wanted dog now.  Look, see?”

Iggy?  Where did you go?  I found your drawing!  Do you want it?

“Don’t say anything, reader people!” 

There you are!

“No I’m not!”

Iggy, I can see you.

“No you can’t!”

Iggy, I’m looking right at you.

“No you’re not. I’m still in the crate.  Not escaping.  Nope.”

You’re in the living room.

“No I’m not!  Um… okay.  Maybe I am.  But you can’t catch me!”

Whoa, Iggy, slow down–

“HA!  Now you’ll NEVER get me!”

Okay.

“You know why?”

Fine, Iggy, go ahead.  Say it. 

“I’M ON THE LAMB!” You know, after that you don’t deserve to hear this, but–

“What?  I’m on the lamb.  Anyone on a lamb can’t go to prison.”

–your thirty days of confinement are up. 

“What?  Really?”

Really.  It’s all over, and you’re okay.  You don’t have to stay in your crate anymore.

“YAY!  I LOVE YOU A LOT!”

I love you too.  By the way, Iggy, it’s l-a-m, not– 

“I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU!”

–ah, never mind.  I love you too, Iggy.

“I’M FREE!”

Day 29.

“Karen?”

Yes, Iggy?

“Can I ask you something?”

Sure, Iggy, go ahead.

“Do you suppose dung beetles feel pride?”

What?

“You know, like, do they get a huge bit of dung, roll it to wherever they bring it, and go, ‘Look at this killer hunk of dung I found all by myself, damn, I’m a kick-ass dung beetle’?”

I’ve never thought about–

“And what if they find a really huge hunk of dung, how do they get it back to wherever they bring it?  Do they climb up and walk backwards on top of it to roll it, like a circus act?”

What?

“Do they even have dung beetles in the circus?”

Iggy, I have no idea.  

“I mean, are there little kids at the circus going, ‘Ooh, Mommy, look, dung beetles’?  Are they waving flags with dung beetles on them?  Wearing little hats they bought at the souvenir stand that have antennae sticking out the top and and dung beetle eyes on the front?  ‘Look, Mommy, I’m a dung beetle’?”

I have no clue, Iggy.

“Neither do I.  I’ve never been to the circus.”

How does this even occur to you?

“I’m going mad.  Lemme out.”

Not yet.  

“Now please?”

 No.  Sorry.  

“Okay.  How about now?”

No.  Sorry, Iggy, you still can’t come out.

“Okay, what about now?”

No, Iggy.  One more day.

“Okay.”

Good boy.

“Thanks.”

Sure.

“You suck.”