Author Karen

Iggy, bargaining.

Karen 4 Comments

“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.

Karen 8 Comments

“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.

Karen 10 Comments

“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.

Karen 6 Comments

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.

Karen 14 Comments

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.

 

What dog’s that then?

Karen 8 Comments

“Karen! Karen! Karen! Karen! Karen! Karen!”

What, Iggy?

“Look at me look at me look at me look at me look at–”

Okay, Iggy, relax. I’m looking.

“See?”

I see. 

“Yeah!”

Yeah.  What am I looking at, exactly?

“I’m under a Union flag blanket!”

Yes, you are.

“I’m cool!”

Okay, you’re cool, I guess.

“Just like The Who!”

Oh, dear. Iggy, The Who are not cool.

“Are too!”

Iggy, listen to me. They went on their first farewell tour when I hit puberty. They’re still farewell-touring and I’m approaching menopause.  I’m not exaggerating.

“Wow–”

Wow indeed, Iggy. They’ve been milking the–

“–you’re old.”

Oh. Great. Thanks. I’m gonna go. You have fun with your blanket.

“I will! I’m cool! I can see for miles and miles and — hmm, well, actually, no, I can’t see much of anything. Uh oh. Karen? Karen? Hello?”

 

I got your grumpy cat right here, pal (and Iggy learns a valuable life lesson).

Karen 9 Comments

Hello, Boo.

Hello human.

What’s wrong?

Everything’s wonderful. What could be wrong?

Don’t get passive-aggressive, Boo. What’s the matter?

Can you explain to me how Grumpy Cat is making movies now?

Her again? You have to get over your fixation with —

She’s not even grumpy. She’s just deformed.

Okay —

Whereas I am genuinely disgusted.

True —

Thoroughly, honestly disgusted.

Okay —

You all make me sick.

All right, stop that, Boo.  That’s no way to go through life.

I know this, human. I’m making changes.

Good.

“Hi Karen!”

Hi Iggy.

“Hi Boo!”

Hello, schnauzer.

“Karen, what’s a kidney?”

What? Why?

“Boo looked sad. I wanted to cheer her up. She asked for one.”

From where exactly?

“Dunno.  She said she wants one of mine, but I was looking. I have my Kermit doll and my squeaky chicken, but I don’t see a kidney? Is that the new one you gave me?”

No, that’s a toy sheep, not a kidney.

“Oh. Then where do I –”

You don’t. 

“But then how–”

Iggy, listen to me, this is important.  

“Okay.”

Never promise any of the cats a kidney.

“Oh.  Okay.”

Good boy.

What’s so good about him?  I ask him for a kidney, I don’t get the kidney.  ‘Good boy’ my furry calico ass.  

Boo, you can’t disembowel Iggy.

How is that disemboweling?  It’s one kidney.  He has another one.  There’d be plenty left of him.

I don’t care how many internal organs he has, you can’t have any of them.  

You tell me I should be happy, then you stand in my way.

I meant by playing with toys or watching the birds outside or interacting more with the other cats.

I hate the other cats.  I want meat.

Well, that’s easy enough.  I can get you treats.

I want dog meat.

You’re not getting dog meat.

Schnauzer entrails.

No, Boo.  Not happening.   

I don’t know why I bother.  There’s no talking to you.    

You have the run of the house, Boo.  You just can’t open up the dog.

I’m disgusted.  I’m leaving. 

Fine.

You all make me sick.


AHEM.

Karen 10 Comments

“I’m BAAAAACK!”

Okay, Iggy, that’s a bit much, don’t you think?

“You wouldn’t let me say what I wanted.”

What was that?

“Heeeeere’s IGGY!” 

Yeah, a little bit creepy.  You’re not an axe murderer.

“No.”

Indeed.

“I’d need opposable thumbs.”

Try not to evolve any time soon, then, okay?

“No choice.”

No, I suppose not.

“I’m working on it, though.”

I’m hiding the knife rack.

“Awww!”

M.C. Iggy returns! (You knew this was coming.)

Karen 6 Comments

Yo, M.C. Iggy in the house, y’all, pickin’ up the treats and droppin’ the beats!

First things first, I’m the cutest

Down girl, you know the whole world knew this

And I’m still in the schnauza bizness

I could wag my tail so hard it defies physics

You should want a bad dog like this

Drop my toy and pick it up just like this

High tail, something worth half a twenty on my neck

Bag of treats when I’m hangin’ on the deck

Takin’ all the squirrels down, gonna chase that

Kibble spillin’, you should taste that

I be the I– um…

“…hmm. Psst, Karen?”

Yes?

“How do I… you know.”

Oh.  I-g-g-y.

I be the I-G-G-Y! Put my name in bold

I been barking, I ain’t doin’ anything I’m told!

I’m so fancy

Can you taste this bone

I’m in the fast lane

To the dog park and then back home

Who that, who that?

I-G-G-Y!

That chew that, chew that?

I-G-G-Y!

“That was exhausting.  I’ll be on the couch if you need me.”

You were on the couch the whole time.  

“Yeah, but I’m staying on the couch, is my point.”

It’s about time you figured out how to stay.

“What?”

Nothing.  Go to sleep.

“Will do!”

(By the way, readers, here’s the actual song.)