I communicate with my cats in a variety of ways — I even hold complete conversations with them. Sometimes I baby talk to them and other times I speak to them like I would with a good friend over coffee. And then occasionally I meow to them. You do too, right?
There’s no rhyme or reason as to when or why I do it. I’ll meow at them when they won’t stop meowing at me. It kind of like I’m saying, “How do you like it when I meow like crazy at you?” It’s the same reasoning as when I poke my sleeping cats because they find joy in waking me when I’m sleeping soundly. Childish? Yes. But still somehow satisfying.
I enjoy meowing at them in a conversational manner. You know how sometimes a cat’s meow sounds like a question? I’ll meow back like I’m answering their question. This works especially well with Phoebe, who is a total chatterbox. We’ll go back and forth for a while. I don’t think we ever get anywhere, but it’s fun. Better conversation than with some humans, that’s for sure.
On top of being a Chatty Patty, Phoebe meows extraordinarily loudly, which looks funny coming from her seven-pound frame. Seriously, her meows are louder than the other two combined. And her nose scrunches up when her mouth opens to mew. It’s adorable and annoying all at once. We play a game of trying to one-up each other. Our meows get progressively louder and she always has to have the last word. Even if I’m in the next room and think I’ve closed the “conversation” with a final meow, she can’t let it go. I hear a clipped little “mew!” from across the way. Yes, Pheebs — you “win.”
When I meow at Cosmo, he looks confused and a little disgusted: “What in the world are you doing, woman?” I have to say I’d probably look a little perplexed if he suddenly started talking in human sentences to me. I wouldn’t be at all disgusted, though. I’m sure I’d think it would be awesomely cool. And then I’d invite friends over to see my amazing talking cat. Except when they’d show up, he wouldn’t do it. He’d just stare and meow … and I’d meow back. And my friends would think I’m a liar and (even more of) a big weirdo.
Saffy is a different story altogether. She’s pretty much disinterested in anything I do, unless it results in the possibility of noms landing in her belly. When I meow at her, she doesn’t even give me the time of day. In fact, she completely avoids my eye contact — I’m sure she thinks it would only encourage me. Yeah, she’s probably right.
I also enjoy singing and replacing certain words with meows. You know, like “Supercalfragilisticexpiali-meow-meow” or “If you’re happy and you know it, meow-meow-meow.” Please humor me and confess you do this too. Sometimes I’ll replace every word with “meow.” This is sometimes accompanied by some sort of awkward interpretive dance. I like to think my cats are entertained by my little show. “Like to think” is the key phrase. They’re probably hoping their friends aren’t peeking through the windows. Well, we’re all embarrassed by our parents now again — get over it, cats. Oh, and “MEOW!”
Do you meow to your cat? Tell us about it in the comments!
About the Author: Angie Bailey is a goofy girl with freckles and giant smile who wants everyone to be her friend. Loves pre-adolescent boy humor, puns, making up parody songs, and thinking about cats doing people things. Writes Catladyland, a cat humor blog, and authored whiskerslist: the kitty classifieds, a silly book about cats wheeling and dealing online. Partner in a production company and writes and acts in comedy web series that may or may not offend people. Mother to two humans and three cats, all of which want her to make them food.
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