Melk

I used to drink cow's milk.

I should say that, in the past, I used cow's milk, as drinking milk for the sake of drinking milk--like with meals--is gross to me. Milk is only a drink when it comes with cookies or cake.

mmm... cake.

I digress.

When Pete moved in, he brought his soy milk with him. I eventually started using soy milk as well (vanilla flavored) because I would not use up my entire glass returnable gallon of milk before it went sour. Then, we switched to an organic rice milk. Then, I got pregnant. I don't remember it being a conscious decision, but I started buying cow's milk again. Somehow, this came to the attention of our oldest cat, Fritz.

Now, he's a milk fiend. He squawks at me in the morning when I am eating my cereal and checking up on the news, he squawks at Pete when he gets home at 2:00 in the morning and has a bowl of cereal. Pete still uses the rice milk, so it is pretty disappointing to Fritz when Pete sets his bowl down, and he has finally stopped Snoopy vulturing me from the piano and waits a few feet away until I am done.

This morning was particularly disappointing. I had hardly any milk left and Pete had hardly any already disappointing rice milk left.

Fritz is the only member of the cat family who gets this treatment, at least from me, and he does not get that much... at least from me. Pete is a little more generous, which should probably stop because he's remarkably loud when Pete gets home in the middle of the night, and it's not a pleasant sound. If Pete stops giving him anything, eventually, Fritz will (hopefully) give up. Also, I don't want him to have too much of the stuff because whatever I have been doing for him for 18 years has been working, and it did not include table scraps and milk, in general. He's enough of a monster as it is, so any more milk, and he will probably drive us both a little bit nuts.