I saw a license plate that said 4PET399. If we accept my mild cheat that a 9 can stand for lower-case "g" instead of the more traditional upper-case "P", then we get "a pet egg".
This made me wonder if this would be an egg that your pet laid (if you're the sort to make pets out of non-mammals or monotremes), or an egg you consider a pet - in which case it wouldn't last long - it would either hatch, or if it was not living, start to stink.
It served to remind me of a wonderful short story my friend Goodtime Charlie wrote when we were lads. It was an absurd tale told from the point of view of a boy whose father gives him an orange or a grapefruit or some form of citrus fruit and says, "I hope you'll do right by this orange, son".
So the boy makes the orange a little bed and tries to take as good of care of it as he can, but eventually the orange rots. The tearful boy goes to his father to report his failure. The father says that he meant that the boy should eat the orange, then adds that he always was afraid the boy would turn out to be a weirdo.
I guess that little bit of absurdity stuck with me because he kind of describes the relationship between me and my father. Excuse me, I have to go lie down now.