Milk

It’s a sad story. Not long after we arrived at our new Palace, we saw Father making something in the kitchen. It smelled enchanting and reminded my brother Marcus and me of when we were tiny kittens and regularly drank warm milk. That, of course, was before the evil cat enslaver dumped us at the shelter in North Carolina. The nerve. Just because of Mother’s love tryst with the neighborhood rascal resulted in lovely kittens who were not pure Bengal. The idiot! Didn’t she ever hear of Hybrid Vigor? She’ll get her’s…ssorry. where was I…

Oh yes, at the new Palace, and father was heating milk in the microwave. Marcus and I were gathered around expecting a lovely bowl of warmed milk. but no. the fool dumps in a cup of some vile brown stuff that reeked, and sat down to read. Being desperate, I hoped onto the table and eagerly lapped up, what I thought wouod be milk. Ugh! It was awful.

Later, my new dog brother, Max, told me it was something the hoomans call cat or cof, and they drink it in the mornings. What a terrible thing to do to wonderful milk. Later I learned they also drink some disgusting stuff called te. Humans are weird.

since then the only thing I trust to drink around here is the water in the bowl. I’d love some nice warm milk, but who knows what they might have added to it!

Humans are such beasts!