Another imaginary conversation with the still-overweight and increasingly resentful cat

Me: IZZY.


Izzy: What?


big boned

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.

Me: Ow?

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]

Izzy: purrrrrrrrrr.