Iggy, do you hear that?
Outside. Garbage pickup. You know, loud truck, banging noises, right in front of the house. Shouldn’t you be at the window barking at them and guarding your territory?
“Oh. Yeah. Ufff.”
“No, that was it.”
“Ufff. Done. Wake me for dinner, will you?”
You’ll be up by then. You get dinner at 8:30 in the evening. You know that.
“I meant your dinner.”
Yes, Iggy did, in fact, just react to the garbage truck noises in front of the house by opening his eyes, letting out a lazy “ufff,” and staying on the couch. Because watchdog, people.