three kinds of cat voices

this morning, the cat is wandering around the house talking in her asking voice—when she is asking for something, something general, voicing a desire she may not even know the source or object of, her meow is a clear, plaintive, long whine. when she is talking familiarly, asking for something directly of me alone—to be picked up and held, a part of our morning routine now, where I cradle her in the crook of my right arm, and she purrs while we look out the window of the living room at the rain or the cars as they pass—her voice warbles. it’s how she says my name. other times, her speech seems more phatic—a short, thin cry I’ll often hear from another room. it sounds lonely. the question may be “hello?” or “are you there?” or even “am i here?” and i will answer “hi, zora!” by which i mean yes, you are there, i am here.