Fielder has graduated from wanting his own yogurt (I can't have milk on my cereal) while I eat mine with cereal to wanting only my bowl after I've gotten all that nasty granola out of the now-apparently-yummy yogurt that's been "granolified" by its essence. I think that's the reasoning, though with cats one never knows. He stares really hard at me while I eat, trying to get me to hurry up and let him have the bowl; cat hypnotism, I'm sure.

BTW, how horrible about your shoulder! I had no idea! (Though I'm sure there's a terrible, seriously non-PC joke about dance as a dangerous contact sport lurking there somewhere. All my bone breaks, except my leg -- oddly enough - were from dancing, actually. Ballet, though.)