So, I've had about nine or ten cats that have stayed around for longer than two or three years since I can remember having cats at all, and something I love about them is how different they all sound. My little Maine Coon chirrups at me (it's actually a species trait called a trilled miaow, which is cool); our Old Man opens his mouth and no sound comes out, unless he really has to pee or is trapped in a room by himself; and we had a half-Siamese baritone who would sometimes call through the house until he found someone to cuddle on.

The sister of the Maine Coon I mentioned just now had a son who got pretty huge for an eight-month-old, and this guy (whom I named Wallace because it was close to Willis, which was his brother's name and a Different Strokes reference) would actually speak in sentences to you. His pitch would rise and fall, and you could always tell when he was asking a question, informing you of something (like an empty food bowl or that his toy was stuck under the couch again), or grumbling. I've held intelligent conversations with him a few times.

What? I'm serious. I even picked at him once, and he turned away and muttered under his breath.

I found a cat that reminded me of him. Little chatterbug, this guy. Have fun.