Morning news update.

“Good morning. I’m Iggy and here is today’s top story. The mini Schnauzer hostage crisis is now in its eleventh day with no sign of a resolution. So far, the captor’s only demands have been ‘sit,’ ‘lie down,’ and ‘stop asking for a poodle’ — none of which will be complied with, due to the stated policy of not negotiating with terrorists.”

I’m not a terrorist, Iggy.

“Some of our sources say the captor denies being a terrorist, most likely believing herself to be a freedom fighter–”

I’m not a freedom fighter either.

“–while others say that she refuses to call herself a freedom fighter, perversely embracing the terrorist moniker.”

Dammit, I’m not a terrorist!

“Little is known about her other than that she has anger issues–”

Ugh. Iggy, I’m not a terrorist or a freedom fighter, and you’re not a hostage. You have to be confined while you recover from your heartworm treatment. It’s for your own good–

“–but it has been confirmed that she says her actions serve some greater good.”

Fine. You can believe what you want.

“We also know that she claims to respect the mini Schnauzer’s beliefs; however, this only adds a layer of hypocrisy to her refusal to release him.”

I’ll be in the kitchen. Let me know when you’re done, and I’ll feed you.

“Once again, today’s top story, the mini Schnauzer hostage crisis enters its eleventh day with no end in sight. I’m Iggy, and that’s the news.”

 

Advertisements

How do you walk a dog recovering from heartworms? Very carefully.

“I like being out in the exercise yard.”

It’s not an exercise yard, Iggy, it’s the sidewalk in front of the house.

“I’m just worried that I’m gonna run into some gang or other and I’m gonna have to defend my turf, you know?”

There’s no gang, there’s no turf. You’re not in prison. You’re confined while you recover from your heartworm treatment.

“Might have to shank a bitch.”

Seriously, Iggy?

“Hey, how come I’m in solitary?”

What do you mean?

“I never see anyone. There’s never anybody else outside when I am.”

You’re not in solitary. I’m just making sure there’s nobody else outside when I walk you because you go crazy when you see people and other animals. It’s really dangerous for your heart rate to rise while you’re recovering.  Your heart and lungs could–

“I don’t go crazy.”

Yes you do.  You pull at the leash and you shriek.

“No I don’t. I’m perfectly– OH MY GOD LOOK IT’S THE CHIHUAHUA! HAMSTER DOG!”

Oh no no no no Iggy no no no–

“GET OVER HERE YOU LITTLE–”

–no no no no no Iggy no Iggy calm down Iggy who’s a good boy calm down please please–

“STOP GRABBING ME! PUT ME DOWN! I WANNA GET THE CHIHUAHUA!”

–look at me Iggy there’s a good boy ssshhhh calm down good boy please calm down Iggy look at me Iggy–

“I’M LOOKING AT YOU! PUT ME DOWN! I WANNA GET THE CHIHUAHUA!”

What’s his problem?

Get away, dog, Iggy’s sick and can’t–

Oooh lemme see! What’s wrong with him?

“HHHOOORRRKKK… PTOOEY!”

–no Iggy don’t spit at the Chihua–

“IT’S EBOLA!”

Aiieeee! Yipe yipe yipe yipe!

“RUN, YOU GERBIL! BWAHAHAHAHA!”

Iggy please calm down, we’re going back in the house now, okay, calm down please calm down, okay back in the house we go, I’m closing the door, please calm down, I’m gonna put you down now, okay down we go, all four feet on the floor, slowly, okay. You all right?

“What? What’s wrong?”

You went crazy just now!

“No I didn’t. I was perfectly fine.”

That was fine to you?!

“Well, no.”

No! It was–

“It was friggin’ awesome, is what it was.”

Get back in the crate, you.

Vote for Iggy!

Hi readers, Karen here.  You know those Facebook contests — “vote very day for my goldfish and I’ll win a vacation to New Jersey,” that sort of thing?  Well, I entered one sponsored by a supermarket chain.  The prize is, appropriately enough, groceries.  Lots and lots of groceries.  I figure this can be Iggy’s way of contributing to the household since he refuses to get a job.  

“I heard that.  I can’t get a job — employers discriminate against heartworm sufferers.  Really, I should sue.”

Who would you sue?  Nobody’s ever turned you down for a job because of heartworms, Iggy.

“How do you know?”

You have to apply for a job before you can be turned down.

“Oh.  Well, I should sue anyway.”

For what?

“I dunno, just in general.”

You do that.

“After my nap.”

Okay, then.  Anyway, readers, I’ve uploaded Iggy’s picture to the contest website, and if you’re so inclined, you can vote for him here.  You can vote once per day, and it runs for the next couple of weeks.  

Thank you.

 

 

Iggy, bargaining.

“Hey, gimme some smokes.”

What? Of course not.

“I need them!”

I don’t have any cigarettes, and even if I did I wouldn’t give you any. What do you need cigarettes for?

“To trade for phone time.”

You’re kidding.

“Nope.”

Who do you want to call?

“I wanna prank the vet.”

You’re not making prank calls to the vet’s office.

“I’m doing hard time because he framed me!”

He prescribed confinement while you recover from your heartworms.

“Yeah, right, whatever. Get me some smokes to trade.”

Tell me, Iggy, who would you trade them with?

“You.”

Wait a minute — you want me to give you cigarettes so you can offer them back to me?

“Yes.”

That makes no sense, Iggy.

“It makes perfect sense!”

How?

“You have the phone!”

You’re not getting cigarettes.  Be quiet and chew your treat ball.

“Hey, trade you a treat ball?”

I don’t want the treat ball.  If I wanted the treat ball I wouldn’t have given it to you.

“Come on.  It’s chicken flavored.”

You’re not making prank phone calls to the vet.  

“Fine.  Just don’t come to me later asking for the treat ball, ’cause you can’t have it.”

I’ll try to survive.

“Hmmph.”

 

Iggy, arch criminal.

“Hey Karen! Hey Karen! Hey Karen! Hey Karen! Hey–”

Iggy, I’m standing right here.

“Oh.  Yeah.  Hi.”

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!”

Right.

“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.”

What?

“Between one and two years old.”

You’re not getting a–

“About 15 pounds.”

I just said–

“Female, of course.”

You are not–

“Groomed–”

No.

“–pretty ribbons in her fur–”

Stop.

“–a poofy little butt–”

Stop.

“–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.”

I know I can’t be free.

“Psst.  Hey.  Lemme out.”

I can’t do that, Iggy.

“What’s the matter?  Scared?”

Well, yeah.  If you get out and —

“I won’t tell the vet.”

What?

“Nobody has to know you helped me escape.”

It has nothing to do with people knowing.  

“Scared of me?”

What?

“I won’t hurt you.  I’ll just go on my way.”

I’m not scared of you, Iggy.

“You should be.”

Really?  Why?

“I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die.”

No you didn’t.

“I didn’t?”

No.  That’s from a Johnny Cash song.

“Oh.  It’s a good song.”

It is.

“Yeah.”

Yeah.

“So I didn’t shoot a guy?”

No.

“What was I doing in Reno, then?”

You weren’t in Reno.

“Wow.  I thought I was.”

You weren’t.

“I was totally convinced.”

I see that.

“That’s a really good song.”

Yes.

“Had me completely fooled.”

I don’t think the point was to fool– 

“Why am I locked up, then?”

You’re recovering from heartworm treatment, remember?

“Still?”

Still.

“How long?”

A month.

“Wow, that’s a long time.”

Yep.  It’s a pretty serious ailment.  It’ll take a while for it to go away.

“Can we go to Reno when I’m better?”

Iggy, sweetie, when you’re better, we can go wherever you want.

“Cool!  I wanna go to Reno!”  

Then I’ll take you to Reno.

“I wanna shoot a man!”

What?!  No!  Ugh.  You know, we could have had a heartwarming moment there.  

“I’ve had enough heartworming moments.”

Warming, not worm — never mind.  I have to find you some different music to listen to.

“Sure.  Can I get a teardrop tattoo under my eye?”

This is going to be the longest month of both of our lives, isn’t it?

“Hey, I asked you to spring me.  It’s your own fault for saying no.” 

Iggy suffers an unforeseen, tragic side effect.

Sadly, during his heartworm treatment, Iggy went country.

Wormy Heart, by Iggy

I was a schnauzer
And she was my gal
Then one day she got in his truck
They drove away
She’s stayed gone to this day
And now I’m a miserable f–

Whoa there, language, Iggy!

She left me a note
And in it she wrote
The reasons she felt we must part
‘Your drinking, carousing,
‘Your barking and schnauzing
‘But mostly your cold, wormy heart.’

Schnauzing?

“Yeah. I’m a Schnauzer. We schnauze.”

You schnauze?

“Yep.”

Schnauze.

“Schnauze.”

You’re making that up.

“Kind of, yeah.”

Go rest in your crate. Meanwhile, I’ll call the vet and see if there’s anything he can prescribe that’ll prevent any more outbursts of country, because that was terrifying just now.

The heartbreak of heartworms.

Hi, everyone — Karen here, without Iggy. Iggy tested positive for heartworms a little while back, and he’s currently at the vet for Immiticide injections to kill the worms. He’s coming home tomorrow, but from what I understand, the treatment is probably making him pretty sore and lethargic, so it’ll be a while before it’s business as usual again here at The Iggy Dialogues.

In the meantime, I’m calling the vet to check up on him. It’s ringing now, so — oh, hang on.

Hello, Animal Hospital.

Hi, this is Karen, checking up on Iggy. Could you tell me how he’s doing?

Hi, Karen. I know Iggy got his first shot this morning.

How’s he handling it?  Is he feeling okay, or is he hurting?  Sleeping a lot?

I guess he’s doing okay so far.

You guess? What’s going on?

You know what, I’m going to put you through to the doctor. One moment.

Okay, readers, this is worrying me–

Hello, Karen?

Hi, Doc. How’s Iggy?

Well, he got his first injection this morning, and he’s–

“IS THAT HER?!”

Down, boy. So, Iggy had–

“LEMME TALK TO HER! GIMME THE PHONE! GIMME THE PHONE! KAREN? HELP!”

Down, boy. As I was saying, he had the first injection, and it doesn’t appear to have affected his behavior–

“GIMME THE PHONE OR SO HELP ME, I WILL PEE IN YOUR RECEPTION AREA LIKE YOU HAVE NEVER SEEN PEE BEFORE!”

–which I suppose could be viewed as a positive–

“NEVER MIND A MOP, YOU BASTARDS ARE GONNA NEED AN ARK!”

–depending on your perspective.

“YOU HEAR ME?  AN ARK!

As you know, we have no choice but to keep him overnight–

“KAREN! THEY STABBED ME! BUNCH OF SICK SADISTS! HELP ME!! HELLLP MEEEEEE!!”

–so, um, we were all curious as to how early you could come and get him tomorrow?

What time do you open?

We open at 8 AM.

Figure 9 AM, then, to give you time to give him the second shot?

“WHAT’S THIS? OH MY GOD, IT’S A GODDAMNED CHIHUAHUA. I’M IN A CAGE ACROSS FROM A GODDAMNED CHIHUAHUA! HEY, YOU KNOW WHAT ‘CHIHUAHUA’ MEANS IN SPANISH?”

We’d like to give him the second shot earlier in the morning, actually.

“IT MEANS ‘I LOOK LIKE JEFF GOLDBLUM IN THE FLY ONLY SMALLER AND UGLIER,’ THAT’S WHAT IT MEANS!”

How soon can you get here?

Shall I come by as soon as you open?

“KAREN! GET ME OUTTA HERE!”

Please do.   

Of course.

Have a good day.  Iggy, please put back the ferret!

*click*

That’s going well.