Same Planet, Different Language

What we have here is failure to communicate. 

So, I have a minor issue with Deskster. He's a good boy and I love having him around, but, we don't speak the same language. See Deckster spent a few years living with the late Joe the Just and they had their own language. Honestly, I don't remember Deckster saying much of anything when visiting or cat sitting for Joe. Julian was the chatty-Cathy. I was not prepared for sheer amount of talking when I took Deckster in.

Again, I'm not complaining. I was too young to remember Hershel. Max was very direct in what he said. Spica would sit for hours talking, actually having a conversation with my family (she spent the first year of her life at the Vet's office and had plenty of people to talk to). The kittens I had with Andrea (we fostered them for a couple of months, she didn't literally have kittens) were just beginning to have personalities and did kitten meows. And Marmalade rarely made noise.

Deckster has a lot to say and I don't understand most of it, and I can tell that he gets frustrated. Check out this video for an explanation of why cats meow to people and the language they develop.

Deskster speaks Joe-cat pidgin. With a bit of Dani-cat pidgin thrown in. When he speaks to me, he might as well be speaking Greek.

Now, I understand his, "You're talking too long to put food in the dish! Use both of your thumbs!" meow. And I understand his, "I'm starving! I haven't eaten in years!" meow. Those two I figured out. They have a certain cadence and volume to them and he uses one when I'm opening up a can of gooshy food and the other only when I'm walking the dish over to his place-mat. But the other meows are a mystery.

Last night, he was sitting on the back of the couch, looking out of the window at something. He told me something. "mEOoow!"

"What is it? Is it a squirrel?"

"mEOoow!"

"Are you looking at a bird?

"mEOoow!"

"Are you looking at a rabbit?

"mEOoow!"

"Is it another cat? The mailman? A car?"

"mEOoow!"

"Is Timmy stuck down the well and needs his insulin?"

It was at that point that he pulled his head away from the curtains and gave me a look. If you own a cat, you know what look I'm talking about. I may not be able to understand Deckster, but he certainly can understand my sarcasm.

He's settled in and trusts me. When he's happy he stops meowing and starts making happy buzzing and chirping noises. He thinks I'm a big cat, at least sometimes.