It's gotta be "Alley Cat," or nothing at all . . .

Lest ye socks ever doubted the cliche about the finnicky nature of our feline companions, allow yours truly to disabuse you of that notion.

Fortunately, to date, that has worked in favor of the household budget in this little corner of heaven.

It seems the tastes of the resident feline run cheap.

She only likes the "Alley Cat" brand, and would rather go on a hunger strike than let anything else pass her lips.

Trust me. I've tried upgrading her to one of the more expensive name brands. But, all my efforts have been for naught.

To make the crisis worse, since landing in our current high-brow environment, there is no handy source of the preferred sustenance.

So, yes, that was me making an unplanned trek over to "the other side of the tracks" this evening in search of a Winn Dixie.

The good news is I was able to find one and get back to ye old abode before BB11 started. And, HRH is chowing down with unusually loud satisfaction in the next room. So, can someone pass the remote?!