The latest news here is that I’ve started to give my cat Herman Panther meowing lessons. I realize that because his older “brother” Brody rarely utters a normal meow, Herman never learned how to properly talk Cat. Instead, he learned to squawk from the crows who sit on the phone line outside our second-story window. With them he shares a glossy-black exterior, a mucho-mysterioso stare, and unfortunately an extensive crowing vocabulary.
After years of listening to him speak his own brand of squawk-talk, a tongue that impresses demand even at a whisper, I realized that providing Herman with a more melodic meow model, a sweeter sound to copy, would be smart. Unfortunately, Herman seems to have moved on from his “picking up noises” stage in life. What with the cat pushing a whole ten years, it’s another case of horrible timing on my part.
I’m just getting started, though, and I have a plan: I plan to catch him when he’s half asleep and plant the seeds of cat song into his fertile serenader’s spirit by singing meows to him. I will be relentless, and one day, if I’m lucky I will be rewarded with those two familiar feline syllables.
Barring that, I might also be satisfied with at least a more melodious squawk.