When we first got Cooper, the very first night, he was just a young kitten and was a little nervous about exploring. After a while of sitting on the couch with us, he got brave and wandered around a little bit. He made his way down the hallway and into a dark room. After a few minutes, I heard a very loud "Meow!" from down the hall. I went to check on him.
"What?" I said.
"Meow meow meow!" he said.
"Ok.' I said.
He promptly ran into the other bedroom. He was fine- he'd just wanted to tell me what he found. And from that day on, he always talked to me. He would "meow" and tell me what the problem was, what was going on, and that he wanted food. He always wanted more food.
After years of health problems, he finally turned the corner. We knew it was time when he didn't want to eat any more. We made the painful decision, and he went to the vet last night for the final time. He would have been sixteen in May.