The cat was not loud, but he was persistent. The sound was not a meow. It was not pleasing. It was a low growl at its start; a rumble in the back of his throat. It ended in a plaintive tone.
The cat was underfoot. Each step I took included having the cat press against my leg. His tail wrapped around my calf.
The whole time the cat was always making noise. He demanded attention.
You see, five minutes ago I put the wrong food in his dish. My torment will continue until I provide edible food.
Or until the cat tripped me and ate my face.