At least I know when the milk goes bad. Probably.

My cat is a total dick.

Don’t get me wrong, I adore his fuzzy butt, and he is an wonderful, good natured, fluffy ball of purrs. It is just that he is also kind of an asshole.

Case in point. For some obscure feline reason he feels the need to inspect dairy products. If he sees dairy, he needs to sniff at it. He doesn’t actually lick it, and once it is sniffed he is basically done, but that sniffing must occur. (Except that he has developed a taste for ice cream. Specifically my ice cream. Whenever I get it out of the freezer he immediately teleports to directly underfoot, and I am obliged to share. He doesn’t do this with anyone else in the house, so it is uncertain whether he just knows that I am the only one who will share with him, or if he just really likes coffee toffee ice cream in particular. But I digress.)

His most regular dairy inspector job is my morning coffee. (I don’t care what time it is, if it is the first thing consumed after waking up, it is morning coffee.) I drink my coffee heavily latte, so I generally pour milk into the cup about a third of the way up before adding coffee. He has gotten so that when the cup is set down and I am still opening the refrigerator he has himself in position. When I do this in the kitchen he almost never misses a cup. But if I am upstairs at the mini-fridge he sometimes isn’t there.

The other day was a day when he missed it. I had just filled the cup with coffee when Mark said, “You didn’t let Momo inspect the milk!” I mumbled something about how Momo would adjust and went off to heat up the coffee-milk. A minute later Mark was standing in the doorway looking stern.

“Go LOOK at what you have done!”

I go look, and lo and behold Momo is sitting on top of the mini-fridge just staring at me. Unblinking. With that cat look that is somewhere between disappointment and condemnation.

Well, there was really nothing else I could do at that point but get another cup and go pour a token amount of milk in it so he could sniff it.

He sniffed it.
He dipped his paw in the cup. (Okay, so much for that milk.)
He put his head down, as if to rub the side of his face appreciatively against the cup. For a microsecond I thought to myself, “Look! I’ve made him happy and he is grateful.”

That was the moment when he started to push the cup off the mini-fridge. Luckily I KNOW HOW HE IS, so I caught it in time. But yeah, my cat is a total, unrepentant dick.

I still can’t figure out why that fact is so damn cute.

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