I talk to my cats... like... all the time. Especially when they talk to me.

They answer back but, don't worry, I'm not pretending I can understand them. At least not yet. It's entirely possible that sometime in the future I'll finally have that mental break that will take me all the way.

Because I reply to my cats when they talk to me, they are talking more and more. Jenny will alter how she meows based on whether she's mad, happy, hungry, wanting to be petted, or is frustrated. Her "mad" meow is very noticeably different than everything else she says. So she's fairly easy to decode.

Jake, on the other hand, just squawks. He can't meow for some reason. Which means I have no idea what's going through his furry little head and have to guess. Usually he wants attention. But sometimes he is looking for a toy or wants food... and it's a matter trial and error to get him figured out.

Ever since I got back from Kansas City, Jake has been spending a lot of time sitting on me. Assumably because he doesn't want me to leave again...

Fortunately, the only "leaving" I will be doing for quite a while is going to work. But I'll be back at the end of the day so I can be pinned to my couch.