Iggy offers comfort.

“You met her in a shelter?”

I did, yes.

“That’s a really nice first impression to make.”

What do you mean?

“The first thing she learned about you was that you’d be there to save her if you could.”

Couldn’t save her this time.

“You don’t have to every time.  It’s enough that you were there.”

You think so?

“Oh yeah.”



Why are you pawing at my head? 

“I’d be scratching your ear if you’d just hold still.  Ear scratches make everything better.” 

I’m sorry, Iggy. Humans are different.  


Thanks anyway.


The World’s Most Affectionate Cat
c. April 1, 2000-May 20, 2015


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.

Iggy needs explanations.

“Oooh! Look! A tree! Oh boy oh boy oh boy!”

Yes, Iggy, it’s a Christmas tree.

“Oh boy oh boy oh boy!”

Calm down, Iggy.

“Oh boy oh boy oh boy! A tree for Christmas!”

Yes. I just said that.

“Thank you thank you thank you!”

Well, it’s for all of us, but you’re wel—

“I love the tree a lot! Happy Iggy! Happy Iggy!”

I’m glad.

“I hated peeing outside!”

What? Oh, no, that’s not what it’s for.

”But it’s a tree! That’s what all trees are for! Oh boy oh boy oh boy! Happy Iggy!”

It’s a decoration – hey! Put your leg down!


You still have to pee outside.

“Not fair!”

Very fair, Iggy.

“The cats don’t pee outside! They don’t do anything outside! They go wherever they want in the house!”

No, they don’t go wherever they want in the house. They use litter.

“Oh yeah? Where?”

In the hall and downstairs bathrooms.

“Nuh-uh. They do not.”

Yes they do, Iggy.

“There’s no litter in those bathrooms. There’s just the buffets.”

The what?

“The buffets. In the plastic boxes. Nice of you to put those out, by the way.”



How often do you clean the litter boxes?

I don’t. I thought you did.

But there’s never anything in them! 

“Speaking of which, hungry Iggy. Be right back.”

Get back here, Iggy!


That’s not food!

“Yes it is!”

Iggy, trust me, it’s not—

“The cats said so!”


“They said so when I first got here! I was like, ‘hey cats, what’s up,’ and they were like, ‘eat shit, Schnauzer,’ so I–”

Oh, no.

“Yeah. That was back before they started hating me.”



Those buffet boxes are the litter.  Don’t eat from there again.

“They pee there?”


“Can I pee there?”


“You suck.”

You think I suck now?  That’s nothing.  Here, hold still while I put this on you.

“What the — HEY!”

Yep, now I suck.  Hold still.

“I should pee everywhere for this.” 


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

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.


“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.  


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. 


You all make me sick.

Peer pressure.


“This is uncomfortable.”

You’re getting subcutaneous fluids. You’re dehydrated. Hold still. 

“My skin is stretching.  Yuck.”

It’s temporary.  Your body will absorb it, and you’ll be fine.

“I don’t like it here.”

Then why did you make me bring you?

“I dunno.”

Yes you do. Tell me why.

“Well, you know how the cats throw up a lot?”

They never stop reminding me.  Comes with being a cat, I think.

“I thought maybe if I joined in, they’d like me.”

Brilliant.  Did you ever think of just keeping your nose out of their butts?

“Yeah, but I didn’t wanna.  This was a better idea.”

It was?  How’d it work out for you, Quasimodo?

“Shut up.”




Iggy, ungrateful.

Iggy, guess what?


We got nominated for an award!

“We did? Oh boy! What kind of award?”

A Very Inspiring Blogger Award!

“Oh boy oh boy oh boy!”

Yep, I knew you’d be excited! Who’s a happy Iggy?

“ME! I’m a happy Iggy! Does it come with steak?!”

What? Well, no.

“Oh. That sucks. Awards should come with steak.”

Now, Iggy, that’s not very nice of you. This came from the wonderful Donna at MyOBT, who was very kind to nominate us. “OBT” stands for One Beautiful Thing — she posts one thing per day that she finds beautiful, and she’s got a great eye.  From her About page:  

I began to wonder what would happen if I committed to spend every day looking for at least one beautiful thing?

Okay, that excerpt makes it sound sappy and trite, but it’s most definitely not.  Readers, do yourselves a favor and go check it out.  Also, her About page also quotes Tim Minchin, so for that alone she totally rocks.  

“She can’t rock that much if she’s not giving me any steak.”

Stop that, Iggy.  Anyway, the Very Inspiring Blogger Award is given to bloggers who inspire, of course — whether it’s with stories of survival against overwhelming odds, or things that seem small but still brighten your day for having read them, or —

“Does it squeak, at least? That would at least be amusing for a little while.”

It doesn’t squeak. It’s not a toy.

“That sucks!”

Cut that out.  Anyway, I especially like the pay-it-forward aspect —

“You know what would be a great award?”

Quiet, Iggy.  As I was saying —

“Squeaky steak.”

— there are some rules we have to —

“I’ll carry it around squeezing it in my jaws and it’ll make fun squeaky noises. Then I’ll eat it.  ‘Cause it’s meat.”

Pay attention, Iggy. There are some rules —

“Can you at least buy me a squeaky steak when you’re done here?”

There’s no such thing. Now, the rules of the award are that —

“Well, that’s a market vacuum right there.”

— we have to list — wait, what?

“Squeaky steak should exist. Squeaky steak doesn’t exist. Ergo, market vacuum.”

Fine, there’s a market vacuum. Anyway, I have to list 15 —

“We could make it ourselves. And sell it!”

What are you talking about?

“We could advertise it. Iggy’s Squeaksteaks – Play With Your Food!”

Fine, we’ll talk about it later. So, the award —

“Squeakymeat – The Meat that Squeaks!”


“Bouncy Beef!”

Can I finish here?

“Sure. You tell everyone about the award. I’ll be in the kitchen working on a prototype.”

Thank you. The rules of the “Very Inspiring–“

The schnauzer inspires me.

Oh, hello, Elwood. Why don’t you come here and tell everyone what he inspires in you?

Homicidal bloodlust.

Okay, I don’t think that’s —

Look, human.  I have a minion now.


Oh, wonderful.  Wait a minute — Iggy, where did you run off to?

“I’m in the kitchen! Hey, are you gonna eat any of this?!”

Oh, shit —

“‘Cause it’s really good!”

Well, I can see today isn’t a good day for this. I’m afraid we’ll have to do the award thing tomorrow, after I clean up the mess here.  (Is there a blog award that offers a mop, a couple of buckets, and maybe a hazmat suit?  No?  Just checking.)  

Loyalty, Iggy style.

“I’ll be right here waiting for you until you come home. 

“Or until I get bored with licking the window and decide to chase the cats and bark at the top of my lungs at them until they play with me or let me lick their entire heads or something. Although those sofa cushions look kind of tasty, so I might just nibble on one of those for a while. 

“But I’ll be here, is my point.”


Cross-posted from So Many Feebs.

Said Sisyphus, “At least I don’t have pets.”

Hello, Phoebe!  How’s my pretty kitty —

Don’t give me that.  Do you know what your dog did today?

“Nothing!  I swear!”

I’ll have you know he left a mangled cat near our toy box.

A what?!

A MANGLED CAT.  He mangled a cat and left it near our toy box.  He muttered something about ‘sending a message.’

“Did not!

Iggy —

“I didn’t!”

You did!

“I did, a little, yes.”

Okay.  Phoebe, it’s not a real cat, it’s a toy.  Iggy, stay away from the cats’ toy box.  There — solved.


 “But Karen, the cats are mean to me.”

Because you keep sticking your nose in their butts.

“Oh.  All right.  I won’t do it anymore –”

Good —

“– today.”

We’re going to do this all over again tomorrow, aren’t we?


Gangsta Schnauza. Sort of.

Yo! M.C. Iggy in the HOUSE, y’all! Let me see ya jump up on the couch! Wag those tails in the air! Yeah…

All the sucka mutts runnin’ from me every night

‘Cause I don’t bark, baby, I’m just gonna bite

Well, okay, then. You go on with your bad self.

I just look at my toy and I make it squeak

All the hydrants thank me when I take a leak

Oh, great. Stay classy, Iggy.

All the kitties cry for mommy when they see me comin’

I’m the —

Excuse me?
“Ohshit — WELL! HI, ELWOOD!”

Hello schnauzer.

“Um… hmmm… oh boy. Um… okay. Psst, Karen — is he still there?”

Yes, schnauzer. I’m still here.
“Ohmygod he is, isn’t he. Yeah. Um… Karen? I’m kinda worried now? You know, just a little bit?”
Okay, stop it, Elwood.

Fine, human. I’d hate for the schnauzer to wet the couch. Goodbye.

“Is he gone?”

He’s gone. You okay?

“Um… kind of?”

Would you like your squeaky elephant?

“Yes, please.”

Here you go. Feel better now?

“I’m ftill M. Fee Iggy, oo know.”

I know.


Of course you are.