Iggy loses his friend.


Yes, Iggy? 

“This is my forever home, right?” 

Yes, it is. 

“Then how come the ones that actually make it a home don’t stay forever?” 

I wish I knew, Iggy. 


Ornery Tabby, Domestic Round Lion 
March 11, 1999-April 24, 2015

Iggy, snuggling.

“I like when you’re home.”

I like it too, Iggy.  This is nice.

“Yeah.  This is much better than when you’re at work and there’s nobody here and I’m sad and bored and have to try to chew on the cats to get my mind off how lonely I am.”


“Oh, wait, did I say chew on the cats? I meant NOT chew on the cats.”


“You know, ‘Here I am all by myself not chewing on the cats because I’m a good boy, if only I had a human here to say ‘good boy’ to me but I don’t have anyone to say ‘good boy’ or even to pet me, oh I’m so lonely but I’m not chewing on the cats!'”

Iggy —

“I’m just digging myself in deeper, aren’t I?”


“I’ll shut up.”

Good boy.