The eight hundred year old cat I inherited a few years ago has had a rough week, and has been, among other things, becoming more vocal. His voice is pretty small, and it often comes from the empty room in my apartment, which is unfurnished, and echoey.
Tonight, while I was trying to get some writing done, I heard a steady stream of yowling, and opened the door to find all cats either asleep or drinking water from their bowls.
I looked out the window and saw a woman with her baby and muttered "No one cares about your selfish problem, human child."
I said it just loud enough that the woman looked up at the window and made a face.