Life, and how to live it.

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Hi, folks — Iggy here! Like going to PetSmart, but hate having to walk all around a huge store? Do what I do — shriek like a stabbed banshee at everything that moves, and send every other dog in the store into a mad barking frenzy! Your human will become so desperate to stop you, she’ll put you in the cart so she can quickly wheel you around and shove you in the opposite direction every time one of you sees another dog.

Ta daaa — a cart ride!

I’m Iggy, and that’s my Hyper Schnauzer Tip of the Day.

All this can be yours.

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“Hello, ladies.”
Stop that.
“What? Just chatting with the ladies. And don’t you all look fine today.”
Iggy, you’re fixed.
“What does that mean?”
Well… how do I put this —
“No matter. We can discuss it later. So, ladies, you know what they say about dogs with big ears–”
Oh, Christ. DOWN, boy.

The fidelity of dogs.

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“Hi. I love you a lot.”

Aww, I love you too, Iggy!

“And I love Brian a lot.”

Well, Brian loves you a lot too.

“Did you meet the new next-door neighbors yet?”

I did.

“I love them a lot.”

Okay —

“And the guy that delivered the pizza on Friday night. I love him a lot.”

Yes, Iggy, I get it —

“And the UPS guy that stops here sometimes, I love him a lot, and there was this kid outside before, I saw him through the window, I love him a lot, and that woman that time at the dog park who filled the water bowl, I love her a lot, and there’s this other guy I heard of once…”

I feel special now.

Thursday night haiku.

Couch. Sofa, so soft.
I should exercise more, yes?
No. Couch! Couch, couch, couch.

Yeah, I don’t know either. Here’s another pet picture. This one is Miniature Schnauzer, Confused.

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Yes, he’s on the cat perch. This dog ain’t right.

Now I wanna be your dog.

We’ve begun to long for the pitter-patter of little feet – so we bought a dog. Well, it’s cheaper, and you get more feet. — Rita Rudner

We got a dog from a local rescue yesterday. If you were to ask me to describe him, I’d have to say “lethargic,” and maybe “sniffling.” Since these aren’t “personality traits” so much as “symptoms,” we had to take him to an emergency vet earlier today to treat the illnesses he didn’t exhibit until about 12 hours after we brought him home. He’s pumped full of antibiotics and he’ll be okay in a few days, but for now he wears the Cone of Shame — which is the ultimate humiliation for a new dog in a house with resident cats. Poor bastard.

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