I was semi-happily catching up on paperwork Friday afternoon when Izzie popped through the cat door and started bellowing at me. Seriously. She shouts everything. Unless she’s apologizing and then it’s little croaks, but mostly, she bellows.
“Hey, Izzie. How’s it going?” I have to acknowledge her arrival, or she doesn’t stop.
Shouting.
I bent down to give her a little love and discovered that she was naked. “Where is your collar?!”
More shouts.
“It’s brand new! And it was beautiful! All those sparkly rhinestones!”
More shouting.
“Stop shouting already! Gawd!”
She launched herself into my chest-ular area and gave me the stink eye.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not the one who lost your collar.” I said, as I was scratching her under her chin. “I suppose I need to go look for it?” Sigh.
I went out to the garage to tell The Viking that Izzie was naked and to keep a look out for her collar. His response was classic. “AGAIN?!”
I nodded and Izzie shouted.
I took a look around but there was no sign of her collar. Someone would return it though. They always do. Everyone within a 3-block radius knows Izzie and where to go to get an apology.
Ten minutes later, the phone rang. “Hello?”
“I’m at your back door and I have Izzie’s collar.” Izzie’s boyfriend. The guy that has been on a year-long crusade to steal Izzie’s affections from The Viking.
Weird. Why didn’t he just ring the doorbell or knock like a normal person? He was literally standing right in front of the door. When I opened it, he shoved Izzie’s collar at me. “I almost had to go to the hospital after I tried to put that collar back on her.” He sounded annoyed.
“Awww…did you bleed?”
“Yes!”
“Well, thank you for bringing the collar home. Apologies for your bleeding.” Izzie is sitting innocently beside me watching her boyfriend’s outrage.
It was difficult to feel any sympathy for this ballsy homewrecker. It’s not like she hasn’t slapped him before, because she has. Many, many times because it’s been a journey*. I suppose he just got cocky when she took a few treats from his hand like he had won the popularity contest. A contest that he bragged about winning directly to The Viking’s face. He obviously over-played his hand and now had the audacity to come to our door, all annoyed because he just realized that the joke was on him.
“She was crawling on my quad and must have caught her collar.”
I couldn’t help myself. Honestly. I tried to be gracious. For a full two seconds. But he had bragged to The Viking’s face, and that can’t go unanswered.
“That’s not what Izzie said. She’s been shouting and name-calling since she got home. It’s almost like she’s blaming you for the loss of her collar.”
“WHAT?! Why would I take her collar?”
“Hey. Don’t get testy with me. You and her have some sort of dysfunctional relationship that involves peeping tommery and food. So, how would I know what you would or wouldn’t do?”
“That’s ridiculous. If I wanted her collar, why I would I bring it back?”
“Like I said, how would I know?”
“She spends every afternoon with me, you know.”
“Yes, I’ve heard.”
“She usually lets me pet her and eats treats out of my hand.”
I shrugged, still not sympathetic. “Yes, well, she’s notoriously fickle. I’ve spoken to her about it, but it’s like she doesn’t care. Besides, you should consider yourself lucky that she hasn’t stolen your vehicle or a major appliance.”
“Well, I brought back her collar.” He started walking away, unimpressed.
“Thank you for your trouble.”
Suddenly, he turned around. “Just out of curiosity, does she cuddle with you?”
I laughed. “Yes! A lot more than I would like sometimes.”
“She doesn’t scratch or bite you?” Incredulous.
“Of course not. We’re family.” Just to show off, I scooped Izzie up, flipped her on her back in my arms, and started scratching her chin. She tipped her head toward Gregor and gave him a smile. She must not like his attitude.
I went to see The Viking in the garage. “Izzie slapped Gregor and there was blood.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “She did?”
“Uh, huh. And he was annoyed.”
The smile grew. “I feel so bad for him.”
And then we laughed and laughed and laughed.
We never should have doubted Izzie. It appears that her usual routine of crime has become boring and she needs to up her game. Emotional warfare is just the next logical step, I suppose.
*If you aren’t current with the boyfriend drama, click click here.