“Hey Karen! Hey Karen! Hey Karen! Hey Karen! Hey–”
Iggy, I’m standing right here.
“Oh. Yeah. Hi.”
“I was watching a thing on the news before about prisoners working with dogs.”
So that’s why you were barking. Those dogs on TV aren’t actually here, you know.
“What? Um… yeah! I know that! I was just… practicing. For when I really meet real dogs. That are really here. Not like the ones on TV. ‘Cause those aren’t really here. I know that!”
“Anyway, I was watching it, and it seems like a nice idea.”
It is. It’s supposed to help the prisoners with rehabilitation, along with helping the dogs. A very good idea.
“Yeah. Anyway, since I’m a prisoner, I want a dog.”
You’re not a prisoner, you’re a patient.
“I’m behind bars. I’m a prisoner.”
Whatever you say, Iggy.
“I want a dog to work with.”
You’re a handful on your own. I don’t think another–
“A mini poodle.”
“Between one and two years old.”
You’re not getting a–
“About 15 pounds.”
I just said–
“Female, of course.”
You are not–
“–pretty ribbons in her fur–”
“–a poofy little butt–”
“–and all these shaved bits–”
Stop or no more painkillers.
“Great. Now I have no future. When I get out of here and knock over a liquor store and end up right back inside, it’s your fault.”