Mr. B snagged a pound of hamburger off the edge of the kitchen counter and snarfed it down—including the plastic wrapping. That was a week and a half ago. He didn’t eat for 24 hours. His poops, over the next two or three days, had us wondering if we should call the vet, but he’s back to normal […]
This election. Someone observed it’s like unexpected guests drop by after work and you’re discussing dinner options. Some want to call for pizza, some want to kill and eat the others. Even if pizza wins, there’s a problem.