“You mean we don’t get to see him?” RJ asked.
She grinned. “Of course you do.”
“Mom. Mom,” a voice similar to hers called out from the other room. It was similar because she’d recorded the audio for the buttons her cat used.
Five jaws dropped in succession as the men all blinked at her.
“You have a kid?” Dale asked, shock still lifting his brow.
She chuckled. “In a manner of speaking.”
Motioning for them to follow, she led the way to the front room where her large, fluffy gray and white cat sat in front of several interlocking foam squares with white buttons on them.
He had bright green eyes that blinked lazily at the group of men before he stepped on a button that said, “Mom,” again, then another that said, “Cuddles.”
“Okay, buddy, let’s cuddle,” she said, walking over to sit on the floor by him.
He immediately jumped onto her lap, and she loved on him as she petted his soft fur.
A few months ago, she’d seen several videos online of people’s pets using this system to communicate with their owners, and she knew immediately that her cat was smart enough to catch on.
And boy, had she been right.
He was currently capable of understanding and communicating eleven words, and chose that moment to showcase another one. He jumped off her lap and walked over to step on a different button and, “Happy,” echoed around them in her voice.
“Are you kidding me right now?” Cooper said, his eyes still wide. “Your cat just talked.”
She smiled. “I know. He’s smart.”
“How does it work?” Dale asked, cocking his head.
“I record a word then press the button in context to its meaning,” she replied. “Generally, takes him a few hours per word. But I spaced out teaching them, so he learned one a week. Although, I think he’s capable of learning two at the same time.”
Her cat stepped on another one. “Outside.”
She shook her head. “Sorry, buddy. It’s too hot out there for you right now.”
She pressed theOutsidebutton, followed by theLaterone.
He hit theMadbutton before jumping onto the back of the couch where he curled up with his back to her.
“Sorry, buddy,” she repeated. “But it’s for your own good.”
Cooper shook his head. “It’s déjà vu in here. Like daily conversations with my daughter.”
Everyone chuckled.
His daughter, Mindy, was an adorable blonde-haired, blue-eyed toddler who attended the daycare/preschool where Sadie held a craft hour once a month. The kids were so amazing at that age. Unrestricted creativity ran rampant there.
She loved it.
“So,” she said, rising to her feet. “You’ve met my cat. Let the guesses begin.”
Cooper, who was munching on a cookie he’d somehow swiped, guessed, “Buddy. You’ve been calling him that the entire time.”
She laughed. “Yeah, as a nickname so I didn’t give it away. Good guess, though.”
“My turn.” RJ squinted at the cat. “I’m going to say… Smokey.”
