Izzy: Muscle weighs more than fat.
Me: Oh no you don't.
Izzy: That is science. SCIENCE!
Me: And is not applicable in your case.
Izzy: Appliwhat? I don't get your fancy words MS FANCY WORDS
Me: We need to talk about your attacks on the dog.
Izzy: Those are not your business.
Me: Au contraire, my oversized fluff ball.
Izzy: NOW WITH THE FRENCH TALK SHE SPEAKS
Me: Have you noticed that Charlie doesn't feed you? He cannot. No thumbs. So don't take it out on him when you want to fill your giant cat-maw.
Charlie [scurrying in]: Hey! I noticed! I mean I heard! Hi guys! About the killing me thing! Please! I mean never mind okay what I'm going now-- [scurries out]
Izzy:Yeah, that's right, dog. You go. Run. I'll get you later.
Me: No you will NOT.
Izzy: Look, Bradley. I know I'm just a humorous joke character to you. Because I happen to be a little large!
Me: Did you know your breathing sometimes wakes us up at night?
Izzy: Everyone has to be SUPERMODEL SKINNY IN YOUR WORLD.
Me: I know I've mentioned this before but you still can't clean your own butt.
Izzy: Here's the deal, human. You and the Beard love Charlie more. I get it. I get it.
Me: It's apples and oranges, really. Loving faithful floppy-eared apples and mouth-breathing smelly vengeful oranges.
Izzy: And if you're going to take away what I love--say, a neverending pile of wet delicious--then I'm going to go for what you love. Get it, toots?
Me: Izzy, I hate to say this, but: bad girl. BAD GIRL, Izzy.
Izzy: Whatevs. Hey, I'll settle down on your chest and you'll love it.
Izzy: HACK WHEEZE purrrrrrr. By the way, I could go for a few of those Pounce treats. The moist kind. None of that dusty diet garbage.
Charlie [scurrying in]: I can help! I can do something look how useful! Please don't look at me yellow devil eyes! Nevermind thing in other room have to do--[scurries out]