To accurately reproduce the sounds happening in this house, I would have to be a Foley Artist. You know them as the sound effects professionals used in movies and commercials. I'm not completely certain even one of them could manage to recreate some of the things we hear on a daily basis. Let me attempt to at least give you an idea of what it's like living in the Matchett household...
The Bullys have somewhat of a fixed repertoire consisting of snoring, farting, wheezing and an occasional roar that sounds like a hound from hell has escaped. This is usually accompanied by a body slam on the front door or a window. We hold our breath in anticipation of the dreaded glass smashing, which thankfully has not happened yet - knock on wood.
Rooney has recently added her version of talking - well - telling us off, thank you very much. This talking, if you will, comes when she has had it with our incompetence or indifference. She says things like, "I know you have something left on your plate and you promised I could have some. I've waited patiently but I've reached my limit. Give me what you have - NOW!"
Then there's the nightly recurring, "Daddy, why are you in that chair? There's no room for me. I want to sit with you. Why can't you go over there (insert intense glance at the couch) so we can be together? I'm gonna get on that chair with you...here I come! There, that's better. I love you!" (Insert intense face licking and Rooney's head on Andy's shoulder, looking at him like he's freakin' Santa Claus.)
Periodically, there are mysterious sounds. They are usually so disturbing one is nervous as to what will be discovered at the point of origin. That virtually nothing is uncovered does not lead to relief but rather more anxiety as to what on Earth caused the damn sound! I'm talking crashes, bangs, clangs, shizzles, boings, smurgles, scritches, fwoings and screams. Coincidentally, these mysterious sounds coincide with the arrival of Boo!
It's not just the sound effects that get my heart pumping. It's not unusual to catch something (Boo!) in my peripheral vision, flying through the air. Then there are the actual fur-flying episodes where one cat is just sick and tired of looking at another one. These episodes are few and far between but when they happen it is unnerving. I'm talking screaming, hissing, fur everywhere spats that have to hurt but rarely draw blood.
One of my personal favorites is when Boo! spies something like a squirrel or lizard outside the window. I cannot adequately describe the sounds she makes but they are similar to chirping - only she adds a pained moan to it. Like I said, I can't even describe it. Oh, and her purr is so loud even Andy can hear it from across the room!
Let's see - have I covered it all? Oh no - wait - I forgot Eli's "Hull - Oh - ooo?" every morning. Then there's Fancy's vast vocabulary. He talks to me all day, but I can understand him. If I ask him what's wrong, he will either emit a short, meh - I don't know or a lengthy diatribe about how he deserves a treat because he is the best cat in the whole world and my favorite, so how about it - a chicken treat pleeeze? Yes, he manages to convey that message quite thoroughly.
Now, I know I could live in peace and quiet by simply living alone. But where would be the fun in that?
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