I was out of town for two days this past weekend, and I left my cat alone with extra food and extra water. When I got home, he was nowhere to be found (he’s indoor/outdoor, with a basement door cat flap). After a few minutes of wandering around the area calling his name, I heard him meow from a couple of backyards away. And keep meowing as he approached. Meow, meow, meow, until he appeared at the top of the fence.
And I swear he was frowning. Not just glaring, but actually scowling.
He leapt to the ground and trotted alongside me, his face turned up to look at me as we went back to the house. And he said:
“Goddammit, where the hell have you been? How many fucking times do I have to fucking tell you, I don’t like it when you leave! Shit! Asshole! Get back in there, motherfucker, or I’ll chew off your nads in the night. Get it? Huh? Get it? Fuck!”
Or, at least, that’s what I assume he said.
Then I took my designated place on the couch and he curled up on my lap and purred like a wankle rotary engine and didn’t move for three hours. 