- There are floating objects in the water bowl. We know Jo [other cat in the household] has done this, she does it nearly every day, and sometimes twice a day. The water is now besmirched and must be changed. Immediately. Never mind that drinking from the mud puddle after a long rain has floaty things in it, and is perfectly acceptable. That is Outside Drinking Water. This is Inside Drinking Water. Why can't humans grasp this?
- The dry food dish supply is dangerously low. There's only the thinnest layer of kibble covering the bottom, and starvation is imminent if this is not replenished ASAP. Chop, chop!
- It's time for wet food. You have clocks all over the place, you stare at that screen for hours on end, and it also has a clock. It makes little noises sometimes when you have to talk on the phone for teleconferences. How can you, with so many clocks, not realize IT'S TIME FOR WET FOOD? Yes, i know the kibble bowl is full, but now is not the time for kibble. IT'S TIME FOR WET FOOD.
- The litter box needs attention. I have done my best to create the smelliest poops, I make quite a production of scratching the upper sides of the covered litter box so that everyone knows *I* am in the box and am now done, how can you not smell that it's time to scoop at the least or change things out at most? Is your human sense of smell truly so dismal? What a bleak life that must be, one without odorama.
- It's time to make the bed. I know you didn't make it this morning because you washed the sheets, and you brought them inside to let them dry the rest of the way. The room smells nice and outsidey, but the sheets belong on the bed. Now. Otherwise, you'll wait too long, it will be past your bedtime, and you won't feel like making the bed. You know I prefer sleeping on a made bed. Make it so.
- It's time for bed. You know how cranky you get when you stay up too late. Well, you're all right with the late part, but next morning, when the alarm goes off (yet another clock), you do NOT get up. I, and I condescend to say, even JoJo, could be starving. STARVING. We'll not have had wet food since supper the night before. After Grace left, I thought I could meow you awake, but after three times of hearing you yell first thing, I realize that this is akin to poking the dragon with a stick. So. You MUST heed me. Come to bed on time, so tomorrow morning, you'll find it easier to get up. And feed me.
Those are the meows I've worked out, although there are still a few that baffle me. Like the ones where she stares holes in me, i look at her, she meows, i go to pet her, and she walks away. I consider these the pay-attention-to-me-so-I-can-ignore-you meows. Or, i go to her, start to pet her, and she growls. As if it took me too long to respond, or she's sorely disappointed with my lack of mindreading skills.