As I’ve mentioned before, gargling may be a form of secret code employed by our bipedal staff. Since then, I’ve started taking notes so that I can break it. Think Arrival with a handsome ginger cat as the star.
Last week, the bearded human made high-pitched, rapid sounds with the water. The next day, it was the mama who gave me my afternoon meal, which is highly unusual.
Two nights later, it was a low rumble. This lead to a session of nail-clipping. I hate those.
The following night, he undulated, starting with low gargling and switching to a faster, back-of-the-throat noise. As interesting as this was, I failed to notice anything amiss that night or the next day.
Then, that evening, not only did he undulate, but he gargled twice. There is clearly a complex bit of information exchanged in that process. The mama was tapping at her phone, probably jotting it all down. The next day, they played a lot with Butterscotch. Did I do something bad?
I’m still working out the kinks. One of the puzzles I’m trying to figure out is whether the liquid he uses is significant. Usually, it’s water, but sometimes he goes for green stuff called mouthwash (a likely story). They must produce different sounds and convey different meanings. More research is needed.
After I take a nap.