Hot Night, Cold Milk

Hot Night, Cold Milk The night was hot, I couldn't fall asleep and so I rose to get a glass of milk. I tiptoed past the cat who slept so sound and envied her the ease in which she slept. She woke and followed slippers down the hall. The milk I poured was for myself, alone. Her eyes a perfect glow, a begging plead convinced me that the milk was really hers-- (a half a cup and nothing more for me.) She lapped and lapped until was satisfied. And I, a sleepy dupe, hauled off to bed.