Egg, that is.
I used to love eggnog, and I’d drink gallons of it, usually without the booze, during the holidays. But lately every time I eat something with eggs in it (like — scrambled eggs) my innards bitch and complain, so I’ve gotten off the eggnog bandwagon. Gosh, I hope I’m not getting one of those gallbladder thingies. Stupid aging process.
Cat brief: last night she actually walked into the kitchen and nibbled some of the (bad, non-prescription) dry kibble. Today she went all the way out into the patio, explored around (ignoring Xena who stood their all offended, growling her best I’m Menacing! growl), squatted and peed in the mulch, and then went back indoors to recline like a princess on her pillow.
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