...keeps the doctor away?
Denise and I used to use that joke a lot, before we were married. (And long before anybody had ever heard of Omega-3 fatty acids) It was just an in-joke about her work as a fisheries biologist, dissecting fish heads and culturing tissues, looking for parasites in hatchery coho, trout, steelhead. Salmonidae, pronounced "Salmon-a-day." It was a messy, tedious, repetitive and under-appreciated job, but her kitty, Polyanna, was always grateful when she brought her work home with her.
She gave up hatchery work when we got married. Not that there isn't any out here, but there are also several Ph.D. programs in Oregon popping out new-minted fisheries microbiologists. A B.S. and thirteen years experience couldn't compete, so now she's a free-lance Braille transcriber and paper artist selling her work as Pulp Romances. The only Salmon in her life are the ones I paint on coffee mugs, for which she's profoundly grateful.
The kitties, on the other hand, are much less so...