Blackrock, my now-deceased tuxedo cat has this to say:
“Let Me-owwwt.” The cat would issue this whine until someone with opposable thumbs complied. He also had a door bell that he’d ring when he wanted to come back in.
He was a total hedonist. He would rather have had a short, but high quality life than a long and safe one. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he did get random neighbors to buy him deli cold cuts and supply special cat pillows on their front porch for him. He also used to make traffic stop for him. Galloping across a busy downtown street seemed like a lot of unnecessary work after he didn’t get hit a few times. The cat slowed to a trot and cars obliged.
Just one vote for a cat from a cat.