Percy in peril?

The Beast is still feisty, enjoying his afternoons of Judge shows and Ellen no matter how much I tell him to leave the TV alone.

He's also good for one round of arm biting a night, with the columns of puncture wounds to decorate my forearms.

And I haven't taken a shower if he walks out of the bathroom with dry fur.

But now his billy goat diet (this cat will eat anything; no matter how focus I try to keep him on his own bowl, he licks any plate he can) could carry serious repercussions.

I knew about this pet food recall that's falling dogs and cats across America (gutting the FDA in Republican administrations looks like a better decision all the time, right Popeye?), but paid it little mind. The soft food I give him, Pet Pride, never came up in the newscasts.

But it's on the list, because it's a Kroger-exclusive product.
Apparently, Pet Pride is the Private Selection of the animal world .... and it's Percy's regular morning treat.

He's shown no signs, continuing his incessant meows and cord-chewing routines - no dehydration or unpleasantness in the litter box (no more than usual, anyway).

So I'll watch him for now. As long as the happenings in the tree just beyond the window screen entrance him, I'll hold off on calling the vet.