Tonight there’s gonna be a jailbreak.

“Psst — hey! Reader people!  I did it!  I escaped!  Karen left the crate door unlocked, and I snuck out!  I’m free!  What a badass I am!  Of course, I’m a wanted dog now.  Look, see?”

Iggy?  Where did you go?  I found your drawing!  Do you want it?

“Don’t say anything, reader people!” 

There you are!

“No I’m not!”

Iggy, I can see you.

“No you can’t!”

Iggy, I’m looking right at you.

“No you’re not. I’m still in the crate.  Not escaping.  Nope.”

You’re in the living room.

“No I’m not!  Um… okay.  Maybe I am.  But you can’t catch me!”

Whoa, Iggy, slow down–

“HA!  Now you’ll NEVER get me!”

Okay.

“You know why?”

Fine, Iggy, go ahead.  Say it. 

“I’M ON THE LAMB!” You know, after that you don’t deserve to hear this, but–

“What?  I’m on the lamb.  Anyone on a lamb can’t go to prison.”

–your thirty days of confinement are up. 

“What?  Really?”

Really.  It’s all over, and you’re okay.  You don’t have to stay in your crate anymore.

“YAY!  I LOVE YOU A LOT!”

I love you too.  By the way, Iggy, it’s l-a-m, not– 

“I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU!”

–ah, never mind.  I love you too, Iggy.

“I’M FREE!”

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.

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.”