“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
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!”
“Yeah! Some bordatella in a white wine sauce, served with calamari and–”
Bordatella is keddel cough.
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.”
“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.”
I’b sick, Iggy! Leave be alode!
You doh what? Just have be put dowd dow.