
I’m having a sumptuous Costco lasagna for tonight’s Christmas Eve dinner. That’s unless my lazy gene kicks in and I order Chinese takeout. Could go either way. It’s raining like crazy.
On the other hand, Reiko-chan, princess that she is, requested that I prepare for her a juicy Prime Rib. Visions of succulent roast beef, slowly roasted to medium rare perfection au jus with that perfect crust of spices danced in her deranged little Mauzer head. Lots of scrumptious side dishes and maybe even some creamed horseradish. There were doggie mutters about pairing a nice Petrus.
As a doting DogDad I said sure, no problem.
Sadly, there is this thing about expectations versus reality.
So, here ya go, little dog. Enjoy your Prime Rib. It’s by that famous chef Cesar. He might be French. But I doubt it. I’ll save some lasagna, or maybe house chow mein for you.

By the way, Possy wanted to wish you all a very Merry Christmas. She and her umpteen babies are planning to go to Granny Possum’s den for a Christmas Eve dinner of snails, figs, and insects plus whatever she can scrounge along the way from pet food bowls left on the neighborhood patios overnight.
But I think she has been drinking because….wait for it….she looks like she is…in her cups.
Snorf.

Merry Christmas everybody. Wishes for warmth, happiness, health, peace and love to each of you.
Love to hear from ya